happy in such a connection, if you would grant your con

sent.

Hunks. I lose all patience when I see the young beaux and fops strutting about the streets in their laced coats and ruffled shirts, and a thousand other extravagant articles of expense.

Blithe. Sir, I should be very glad if you would turn your attention to the question I proposed.

Hunks. There's one half of these coxcomical spendthrifts that can't pay their taxes, and yet they are continually running into debt, and their prodigality must be supported by poor, honest, laboring men.

Blithe.

This is insufferable; I'm vexed at the old fellow's impertinence. (Aside.)

Hunks. The world has got to a strange pass, a very strange pass, indeed; there's no distinguishing a poor man from a rich one, but only by his extravagant dress, and supercilious behavior.

Blithe. I abhor to see a man all mouth and no ears.

Hunks. All mouth and no ears! Do you mean to insult me to my face?

Blithe. I ask your pardon, sir; but I've been talking to you this hour, and you have paid me no attention.

Hunks. Well, and what is this mighty affair upon which you want my opinion?

Blithe. It is something you have paid but very little attention to, it seems; I'm willing to be heard in my turn as well as you. I was telling that my son had entered into a treaty of marriage with your eldest daughter, and I desire your consent in the matter.

Hunks. A treaty of marriage! Why did n't she ask my liberty before she attempted any such thing? A treaty of marriage! I won't hear a word of it.

Blithe. The young couple are very fond of each other, and may perhaps be ruined if you cross their inclination.

Hunks. Then let them be ruined. I'll have my daughter to know she shall make no treaties without my consent. Blithe. She's of the same mind; that's what she wants

now.

Hunks. But you say the treaty is already made; however, I'll make it over again.

Blithe. Well, sir, the stronger the better.

Hunks. But I mean to make it void.

Blithe. I want no trifling in the matter; the subject is not of a trifling nature. I expect you will give me a direct answer, one way or the other.

Hunks. If that's what you desire, I can tell you at once, I have two very strong objections against the proposal; one is, I dislike your son; and the other is, I have determined upon another match for my daughter.

Blithe. Why do you dislike my son, pray?

Hunks. Oh, he's like the rest of mankind, running on in this extravagant way of living. My estate was earned too hardly to be trifled away in such a manner.

Blithe. Extravagant! I'm sure he's far from deserving that character. 'Tis true, he appears genteel and fashionable among people, but he's in good business, and lives above-board, and that's sufficient for any man.

Hunks. 'Tis fashionable, I suppose, to powder and curl at the barber's an hour or two before he visits his mistress

to pay six pence or eight pence for brushing his boots-to drink a glass of wine at every tavern-to dine upon fowls dressed in the richest manner; and he must dirty two or three ruffled shirts in the journey. This is your genteel, fashionable way, is it?

Blithe. Indeed, sir, it is a matter of importance to appear decently at such a time, if ever. Would you have him go as you used to, on the same business, dressed in a long, illshapen coat, a greasy pair of breeches, and a flapped hat; with your oats in one side of your saddle-bags, and your dinner

in the other? This would make an odd appearance, indeed,

in the present age.

Hunks. A fig for the appearance, so long as I gained my point, and saved my money, and consequently my credit. The coat you mention is the same I have on now. 'Tis not so very long as you would represent it to be. (Measures the skirts by one leg.) See, it comes but just below the calf. This is the coat that my father was married in, and I after him. It has been in the fashion five times since it was new, and never was altered, and 't is a pretty good coat yet.

Blithe. You've a wonderful faculty of saving your money and credit, and keeping in the fashion at the same time. I suppose you mean, by saving your credit, that money and credit are inseparably connected.

Hunks. Yes, they are; he that has one need not fear the loss of the other. For this reason, I can't consent to your son's proposal; he's too much of a spendthrift to merit my approbation.

Blithe. If you call him a spendthrift for this generosity, I desire he may never merit your approbation. A reputation that's gained by saving money in the manner you have mentioned is, at best, but a despicable character.

Hunks. Do you mean to call my character despicable? Blithe. We won't quarrel about the name, since you are so well contented with the thing.

Hunks. You're welcome to your opinion; I would not give a fiddle-stick for your good or ill will; my ideas of reputation are entirely different from yours or your son's, which are just the same; for I find you justify him in all his conduct. But as I have determined upon another match for my daughter, I shan't trouble myself about his behavior. Blithe. But perhaps your proposed match will be equally disagreeable.

Hunks. No, I've no apprehension of that. He's a person of a fine genius, and an excellent character.

Blithe. Sir, I desire to know who this person is, that has

such a genius and character, and is so agreeable to your

taste.

Hunks. 'Tis my young cousin, Griffin. He's heir to a great estate, you know. He discovered a surprising genius almost as soon he was born. When he was a very child, he made him a box, with one small hole in it, into which he could just crowd his money, and could not get it out again without crowding his box; by which means he made a continual addition till he filled it, and

Blithe. Enough! enough! I've a sufficient idea of his character without hearing another word. But are you sure you shall obtain this excellent match for your daughter?

Hunks. Oh, I'm certain on 't, I assure you, and my utmost wishes are gratified with the prospect. He has a large patrimony lying between two excellent farms of mine, which are at least worth two thousand pounds. These I've given to my daughter; and have ordered her uncle to take the deeds into his own hands, and to deliver them to her on the day of her marriage.

Blithe. Then, it seems you have almost accomplished the business. But have you got the consent of the young gentleman in the affair?

Hunks. His consent!

What need I care about his consent? So long as I've his father's, that's sufficient for my purpose!

Blithe. Then you intend to force the young couple to marry, if they are unwilling?

Hunks. Those two thousand pounds will soon give them a disposition, I'll warrant you.

Blithe. Your schemes, I confess, are artfully concerted; but I must tell you, for your mortification, that the young gentleman is already married.

Already married! It can't

Hunks. What do you say? be! I don't believe a syllable on 't!

Blithe. Every syllable is true, whether you believe it or not; I received a letter this day from his father; if you won't

believe me, you may read it. (Gives him the letter.) There's the account in the postscript. (Points to it.)

Hunks reads. I had almost forgot to tell you, that last Thursday my son was married to Miss Clara Brentford, and that all parties are very happy in the connection. Confusion! (Throws down the letter.) What does this mean? Married to Clara Brentford! This is exactly one of cousin Tom's villanous tricks. He promised me that his son should marry my daughter, upon condition that I would give her those two farms; but I can't imagine from what stupid motives he has altered his mind!

Blithe. Disappointment is the common lot of all men ; even our surest expectations are subject to misfortune.

Hunks. Disappointment! this comes from a quarter from which I least expected one. But there's the deeds. I'll take care to secure them again; 't is a good hit that I did not give them to the young rogue beforehand.

Blithe. That was well thought of; you keep a good look out, I see, though you can't avoid some disappointments. I see nothing in the way now to hinder my son's proceeding; you will easily grant your consent, now you're cut off from your other expectations.

Hunks. I can't see into this crooked affair. I'm heartily vexed at it. What could induce that old villain to deceive me in this manner? I fear this was some scheme of my daughter's, to prevent the effect of my design. If this is her plan if she sets so light by two thousand pounds, she shall soon know what 't is to want it, I'll promise her.

Blithe. If you had bestowed your gift, without crossing her inclination, she would have accepted it very thankfully. Hunks. O, I don't doubt it in the least; that would have been a pretty story, indeed! But since she insists upon gratifying a foolish fancy, she may follow her own inclination, and take the consequences of it; I'll keep the favors I meant to bestow on her for those that know how to prize them, and that merit them by a becoming gratitude.