SCENE III.----_An Apartment at_ Doricourt'_s_.

_Enter_ Doricourt.

_Doric._ (_speaking to a servant behind_) I shall be too late for St. James's; bid him come immediately.

_Enter_ Frenchman _and_ Saville.

_Frenchm._ Monsieur Saville. [_Exit_ Frenchman.

_Doric._ Most fortunate! My dear Saville, let the warmth of this embrace speak the pleasure of my heart.

_Sav._ Well, this is some comfort, after the scurvy reception I met with in your hall.--I prepared my mind, as I came up stairs, for a _bon jour_, a grimace, and an _adieu_.

_Doric._ Why so?

_Sav._ Judging of the master from the rest of the family. What the devil is the meaning of that flock of foreigners below, with their parchment faces and snuffy whiskers? What! can't an Englishman stand behind your carriage, buckle your shoe, or brush your coat?

_Doric._ Stale, my dear Saville, stale! Englishmen make the best Soldiers, Citizens, Artizans, and Philosophers in the world; but the very worst Footmen. I keep French fellows and Germans, as the Romans kept slaves; because their own countrymen had minds too enlarged and haughty to descend with a grace to the duties of such a station.

_Sav._ A good excuse for a bad practice.

_Doric._ On my honour, experience will convince you of its truth. A Frenchman neither hears, sees, nor breathes, but as his master directs; and his whole system of conduct is compris'd in one short word, _Obedience_! An Englishman reasons, forms opinions, cogitates, and disputes; he is the mere creature of your will: the other, a being, conscious of equal importance in the universal scale with yourself, and is therefore your judge, whilst he wears your livery, and decides on your actions with the freedom of a censor.

_Sav._ And this in defence of a custom I have heard you execrate, together with all the adventitious manners imported by our Travell'd Gentry.

_Doric._ Ay, but that was at eighteen; we are always _very_ wise at eighteen. But consider this point: we go into Italy, where the sole business of the people is to study and improve the powers of Music: we yield to the fascination, and grow enthusiasts in the charming science: we travel over France, and see the whole kingdom composing ornaments, and inventing Fashions: we condescend to avail ourselves of their industry, and adopt their modes: we return to England, and find the nation intent on the most important objects; Polity, Commerce, War, with all the Liberal Arts, employ her sons; the latent sparks glow afresh within our bosoms; the sweet follies of the Continent imperceptibly slide away, whilst Senators, Statesmen, Patriots and Heroes, emerge from the _virtû_ of Italy, and the frippery of France.

_Sav._ I may as well give it up! You had always the art of placing your faults in the best light; and I can't help loving you, faults and all: so, to start a subject which must please you, When do you expect Miss Hardy?

_Doric._ Oh, the hour of expectation is past. She is arrived, and I this morning had the honour of an interview at Pleadwell's. The writings were ready; and, in obedience to the will of Mr. Hardy, we met to sign and seal.

_Sav._ Has the event answered? Did your heart leap, or sink, when you beheld your Mistress?

_Doric._ Faith, neither one nor t'other; she's a fine girl, as far as mere flesh and blood goes.----But----

_Sav._ But what?

_Doric._ Why, she's _only_ a fine girl; complexion, shape, and features; nothing more.

_Sav._ Is not that enough?

Doric. No! she should have spirit! fire! _l'air enjoué_! that something, that nothing, which every body feels, and which no body can describe, in the resistless charmers of Italy and France.

_Sav._ Thanks to the parsimony of my father, that kept me from travel! I would not have lost my relish for true unaffected English beauty, to have been quarrell'd for by all the Belles of Versailles and Florence.

_Doric._ Pho! thou hast no taste. _English_ beauty! 'Tis insipidity; it wants the zest, it wants poignancy, Frank! Why, I have known a Frenchwoman, indebted to nature for no one thing but a pair of decent eyes, reckon in her suite as many Counts, Marquisses, and _Petits Maîtres_, as would satisfy three dozen of our first-rate toasts. I have known an Italian _Marquizina_ make ten conquests in stepping from her carriage, and carry her slaves from one city to another, whose real intrinsic beauty would have yielded to half the little _Grisettes_ that pace your Mall on a Sunday.

_Sav._ And has Miss Hardy nothing of this?

_Doric._ If she has, she was pleased to keep it to herself. I was in the room half an hour before I could catch the colour of her eyes; and every attempt to draw her into conversation occasioned so cruel an embarrassment, that I was reduced to the necessity of news, French fleets, and Spanish captures, with her father.

_Sav._ So Miss Hardy, with only beauty, modesty, and merit, is doom'd to the arms of a husband who will despise her.

_Doric._ You are unjust. Though she has not inspir'd me with violent passion, my honour secures her felicity.

_Sav._ Come, come, Doricourt, you know very well that when the honour of a husband is _locum-tenens_ for his heart, his wife must be as indifferent as himself, if she is not unhappy.

_Doric._ Pho! never moralise without spectacles. But, as we are upon the tender subject, how did you bear Touchwood's carrying Lady Frances?

_Sav._ You know I never look'd up to her with hope, and Sir George is every way worthy of her.

_Doric._ _A la mode Angloise_, a philosopher even in love.

_Sav._ Come, I detain you--you seem dress'd at all points, and of course have an engagement.

_Doric._ To St. James's. I dine at Hardy's, and accompany them to the masquerade in the evening: but breakfast with me to-morrow, and we'll talk of our old companions; for I swear to you, Saville, the air of the Continent has not effaced one youthful prejudice or attachment.

_Sav._--With an exception to the case of Ladies and Servants.

_Doric._ True; there I plead guilty:--but I have never yet found any man whom I could cordially take to my heart, and call Friend, who was not born beneath a British sky, and whose heart and manners were not truly English. [_Exit_ Doricourt _and_ Saville.