SCENE II.--NIECE'S _Lodgings.

_Enter_ NIECE.

_Niece._ Oh, Clerimont! Clerimont! To be struck at first sight! I'm ashamed of my weakness; I find in myself all the symptoms of a raging amour. I love solitude, I grow pale, I sigh frequently, I call upon the name of Clerimont when I don't think of it--His person is ever in my eyes, and his voice in my ears--Methinks I long to lose myself in some pensive grove, or to hang over the head of some warbling fountain, with a lute in my hand, softening the murmurs of the water.

_Enter_ AUNT.

_Aunt._ Biddy, Biddy; where's Biddy Tipkin?

_Niece._ Whom do you inquire for?

_Aunt._ Come, come; he's just a-coming at the Park door.

_Niece._ Who is coming?

_Aunt._ Your cousin Humphry. Who should be coming? Your lover, your husband that is to be--Pray, my dear, look well, and be civil for your credit, and mine too.

_Niece._ If he answers my idea, I shall rally the rustic to death.

_Aunt._ Hist--Here he is.

_Enter_ HUMPHRY.

_Hump._ Aunt, your humble servant. Is that--ha! Aunt?

_Aunt._ Yes, cousin Humphry, that's your cousin Bridget--Well, I'll leave you together. [_Exit_ AUNT. _They sit._

_Hump._ Aunt does as she'd be done by, cousin Bridget, does not she, cousin? Ha! What, are you a Londoner, and not speak to a gentleman? Look ye, cousin, the old folks resolving to marry us, I thought it would be proper to see how I liked you, as not caring to buy a pig in a poke, for I love to look before I leap.

_Niece._ Sir, your person and address bring to my mind the whole history of Valentine and Orson.[94] What, would they marry me to a wild man? Pray answer me a question or two.

_Hump._ Ay, ay; as many as you please, cousin Bridget.

_Niece._ What wood were you taken in? How long have you been caught?

_Hump._ Caught!

_Niece._ Where were your haunts?

_Hump._ My haunts!

_Niece._ Are not clothes very uneasy to you? Is this strange dress the first you ever wore?

_Hump._ How?

_Niece._ Are you not a great admirer of roots, and raw flesh? Let me look upon your nails--Don't you love blackberries, haws, and pig-nuts, mightily?

_Hump._ How?

_Niece._ Can'st thou deny that thou wert suckled by a wolf? You have not been so barbarous, I hope, since you came among men, as to hunt your nurse, have you?

_Hump._ Hunt my nurse? Ay, 'tis so, she's distracted, as sure as a gun. Hark ye, cousin, pray will you let me ask you a question or two?

_Niece._ If thou hast yet learned the use of language, speak, monster.

_Hump._ How long have you been thus?

_Niece._ Thus! What would'st thou say?

_Hump._ What's the cause of it? Tell me truly, now; did you never love anybody before me?

_Niece._ Go, go, thou'rt a savage. [_Rises._

_Hump._ They never let you go abroad, I suppose.

_Niece._ Thou'rt a monster, I tell thee.

_Hump._ Indeed, cousin, though 'tis a folly to tell thee so--I am afraid thou art a mad woman.

_Niece._ I'll have thee carried into some forest.

_Hump._ I'll take thee into a dark room.

_Niece._ I hate thee.

_Hump._ I wish you did--There's no hate lost, I assure you, cousin Bridget.

_Niece._ Cousin Bridget, quoth'a! I'd as soon claim kindred with a mountain bear--I detest thee.

_Hump._ You never do any harm in these fits, I hope.--But do you hate me in earnest?

_Niece._ Dost thou ask it, ungentle forester?

_Hump._ Yes; for I've a reason, look ye. It happens very well if you hate me and are in your senses, for, to tell you truly, I don't much care for you; and there is another fine woman, as I am informed, that is in some hopes of having me.

_Niece._ This merits my attention. [_Aside._

_Hump._ Look ye, d'ye see--as I said, since I don't care for you, I would not have you set your heart on me; but if you like anybody else let me know it, and I'll find out a way for us to get rid of one another, and deceive the old folks that would couple us.

_Niece._ This wears the face of an amour.--There is something in that thought which makes thy presence less insupportable.

_Hump._ Nay, nay, now you're growing fond; if you come with these maid's tricks, to say you hate at first and afterwards like me, you'll spoil the whole design.

_Niece._ Don't fear it--When I think of consorting with thee, may the wild boar defile the cleanly ermine; may the tiger be wedded to the kid.

_Hump._ When I of thee, may the pole-cat caterwaul with the civet.

_Niece._ When I harbour the least thought of thee, may the silver Thames forget its course.

_Hump._ When I like thee, may I be soused over head and ears in a horsepond--But do you hate me?

_Enter_ AUNT.

_Niece._ For ever; and you me?

_Hump._ Most heartily.

_Aunt._ Ha! I like this. They are come to promises and protestations. [_Aside._

_Hump._ I am very glad I have found a way to please you.

_Niece._ You promise to be constant?

_Hump._ Till death.

_Niece._ Thou best of savages!

_Hump._ Thou best of savages! Poor Biddy.

_Aunt._ Oh! the pretty couple, joking on one another--Well, how do you like your cousin Humphry now?

_Niece._ Much better than I thought I should. He's quite another thing than what I took him for--We have both the same passion for one another.

_Hump._ We wanted only an occasion to open our hearts, aunt.

_Aunt._ Oh, how this will rejoice my brother and Sir Harry! we'll go to 'em.

_Hump._ No, I must fetch a walk with a new acquaintance, Mr. Samuel Pounce.

_Aunt._ An excellent acquaintance for your husband; come, niece, come.

_Niece._ Farewell, rustic.

_Hump._ Bye, Biddy.

_Aunt._ Rustic! Biddy! Ha! ha! pretty creatures. [_Exeunt._

ACT THE FOURTH.

SCENE.--_A Street._

_Enter_ CAPTAIN CLERIMONT _and_ POUNCE.

_Cler._ Does she expect me then, at this very instant?

_Pounce._ I tell you, she ordered me to bring the painter at this very hour, precisely, to draw her niece; for, to make her picture peculiarly charming, she has now that downcast pretty shame, that warm cheek, glowing with the fear and hope of to-day's fate, with the inviting, coy affection of a bride, all in her face at once. Now I know you are a pretender that way.

_Cler._ Enough, I warrant, to personate the character on such an inspiring occasion.

_Pounce._ You must have the song I spoke of performed at this window, at the end of which I'll give you a signal. Everything is ready for you; your pencil, your canvas stretched, your----Be sure you play your part in humour. To be a painter for a lady, you're to have the excessive flattery of a lover, the ready invention of a poet, and the easy gesture of a player.

_Cler._ Come, come, no more instructions, my imagination out-runs all you can say. Be gone, be gone! [_Exit_ POUNCE.

A SONG.

I. Why, lovely charmer, tell me why, So very kind, and yet so shy? Why does that cold forbidding air Give damps of sorrow and despair? Or why that smile my soul subdue, And kindle up my flames anew?

II. In vain you strive with all your art, By turns to freeze and fire my heart: When I behold a face so fair, So sweet a look, so soft an air, My ravished soul is charmed all o'er, I cannot love thee less nor more.

[_After the song_ POUNCE _appears beckoning the_ CAPTAIN.]

_Pounce._ Captain, captain. [_Exit_ CAPTAIN.