Can ye, learned sages, teach me, These how frail!—there's no denial,- Can Religion prove a guide.* SCENE III. A Side View of Sir John Flowerdale's House, with Gates, and a Prospect of the Garden. HARMAN enters with Colonel OLDBOY. Col. Well, and how does my old friend, Dick Rantum, do? I have not seen him these twelve years: he was an honest worthy fellow, as ever breathed. Har. Sir Richard was always a man of spirit, Colonel. Col. But as to this business of yours, which he tells me of in his letter-I don't see much in it. Har. Why, Sir, we hope not; but as the matter is dubious, and will probably make some noise, I thought it was better to be for a little time out of the way; when The following Song is a duplicate for this place. AIR. Ye gloomy thoughts, ve fears perverse, And scatter in the wind; Delusive phantoms, brood of night, 'Tis done; I feel my soul releas'd; hearing my case, Sir Richard Rantum mentioned you; he said, he was sure you would permit me to remain at your house for a few days, and offered me a recommendation. Col. I'll tell you what will be the consequence thenbut, no matter; I'll take the affair in hand for you— make me your solicitor Har. You are very kind, Sir.-To tell you the truth, I am in love in another place. Col. Oh! you are? Har. Yes, Sir, but there are obstacles-A father-In short, Sir, the mistress of my heart lives in this very county, which makes even my present situation a little irksome. Col. In this county? Then I am sure I am acquainted with her; and the first letter of her name is Har. Excuse me, Sir, I have some particular rea sons Col. But look-who comes yonder?-Ha! ha! ha! My son, picking his steps like a dancing master. Pr'ythee, Harman, go into the house, and let my wife and daughter know we are come, while I go and have some sport with him they will introduce you to Sir John Flowerdale. Har. Then, Sir, I'll take the liberty Col. But, d'ye hear?-I must have a little more discourse with you about this girl; perhaps she's a neighbour of mine, and I may be of service to you. Har. Well, remember, Colonel, I shall try your 'friendship. 6 AIR. Indeed, kind Sir, if ever You mark'd a tender heart, In titles, wealth, and honours, I seek this only blessing, "That her I love be mine.' * Enter JESSAMY, and several Servants. Col. Why, one would think you had never put your feet to the ground before; you make as much work about walking a quarter of a mile, as if you had gone a pilgri mage. Jes. Colonel, you have used me extremely ill, to drag me through the dirty roads in this manner; you told me the way was all over a bowling-green; only see what a condition I am in! Col. Why, how did I know the roads were dirty? is that my fault? Besides, we mistook the way. Why, man, your legs will never be the worse when they are brushed a little. Jes. Antoine! have you sent La Roque for the shoes and stockings? Give me the glass out of your pocketnot a dust of powder left in my hair, and the frissure as flat as the fore-top of an attorney's clerk-Get your comb and pomatum; you must borrow some powder;' I suppose there's such a thing as a dressing-room in the house? Col. Ay, and a cellar too, I hope; for I want a glass of wine terribly-but, hold! hold! Frank, where are The following Song is a duplicate for this place. AIR. Yes! she is fair, supremely fair, That vernal Zephyr blows; Fly swift, my sighs, and in her ear, My pardon plead, you going? Stay, and pay your devoirs here, if you please; I see there's somebody coming out to welcome us. Enter LIONEL, DIANA, and CLARISSA. Lion. Colonel, your most obedient; Sir John is walking with my Lady in the garden, and has commissioned me to receive you. Col. Mr. Lionel, I am heartily glad to see you-come here, Frank,-this is my son, Sir. Lion. Sir, 'tis an honour to me to— Jes. Can't you get the powder then?' Col. Miss Clary, my little Miss Clary-Frank, why don't you come here? This is Miss Flowerdale. Diana. Oh, Clarissa! just as I said, that impudent man is come here with my father. Jes. Had'nt we better go into the house? AIR, QUINTETTO. To be made in such a pickle! Sir? Col. No, but if you please, you may, Sir, Dian. Don't perplex me ; Dear Diana, let him go. Ma'am, permit me. Smoke the beau. Cruel must I, can I bear— Of such distress this heavy share. Each hope prevented. None but the brave deserve the fair; Lovers must ill usage bear. And of distress endure their share. [Aside. None but the brave deserve the fair. [Exeunt. ACT II.. SCENE I. A Hall in Sir John Flowerdale's House, with the View of a grand Stair-case through an Arch. On either side of the Stair-case below, two Doors, leading from different Apartments. Enter LIONEL, followed by JENNY. Jen. Well, but, Mr. Lionel, consider-pray consider now; how can you be so prodigious undiscreet as you are, walking about the hall here, while the gentlefolks are within the parlour! Don't you think they'll wonder at your getting up so soon after dinner, and be fore any of the rest of the company? Lion. Pray, Jenny, do not speak to me: I neither know where I am, nor what I am doing; I am very wretched and miserable. Jen. Poor dear soul, I pity you! Yes, yes, I believe you are miserable enough, indeed; and, I assure you, I have pitied you a great while, and spoke many words in your favour, when you little thought you had such a friend in a corner. Lion. But, good Jenny, since, by some accident or other, you have been able to discover what I would willingly hide from all the world, I conjure you, as you regard my interest, as you value your Lady's peace and honour, never let the most distant hint of it escape you; for it is a secret of that importance Jen. And, perhaps, you think I can't keep a secret. Ah! Mr. Lionel, it must be hear, see, and say nothing in this world, or one has no business to live in it: Besides, who would not be in love with my Lady? There's never a man this day alive, but might be proud of it; for she is the handsomest, sweetest temper'dest!—And I am sure, one of the best mistresses ever poor girl had. Lion. Oh, Jenny! She is most lovely. Jen. And so she is indeed.-Do you know that she gave me her blue and silver sacque' to-day, and it is every crum as good as new; and, go things as they will, |