SCENE I.

_MISS ALSCRIP's Dressing-room._

_MISS ALTON, discovered._

_Miss Alton._ Thanks to Mrs. Blandish's inexhaustible talent for encomium, I shall be relieved from one part of a companion that my nature revolts at. But who comes here? It's well if I shall not be exposed to impertinences I was not aware of.

_Enter CHIGNON._

_Chignon._ [_Aside._] Ma foi, la voila--I will lose no time to pay my addresse--Now for de humble maniere, and de unperplex assurance of my contree [_Bowing with a French shrug.--MISS ALTON turning over Music Books._] Mademoiselle, est-il permis? may I presume to offer you my profound homage [_MISS ALTON not taking Notice._] Mademoiselle--if you vill put your head into my hands, I vill give a distinction to your beauty, that shall make you and me de conversation of all de town.

_Miss Alton._ I request, Mr. Chignon, you will devote your ambition to your own part of the compliment.

_Mr. Als._ [_Without._] Where is my daughter?

_Miss Alton._ Is that Mr. Alscrip's voice, Mr. Chignon? It's awkward for me to meet him before I'm introduced.

_Chignon._ Keep a little behind, mademoiselle; he vill only pashe de room--He vill not see through me.

_Enter ALSCRIP._

_Alscrip._ Hah, my daughter gone already, but [_Sees CHIGNON._] there's a new specimen of foreign vermin--A lady's valet de chambre--Taste for ever!--Now if I was to give the charge of my person to a waiting maid, they'd say I was indelicate. [_As he crosses the Stage, CHIGNON keeps sideling to intercept his Sight, and bowing as he looks towards him._] What the devil is mounseer at? I thought all his agility lay in his fingers: what antics is the monkey practising? He twists and doubles himself as if he had a raree-show at his back.

_Chignon._ [_Aside._] Be gar no raree-show for you, monsieur Alscrip, if I can help.

_Alscrip._ [_Spying MISS ALTON._] Ah! ah! What have we got there? Monsieur, who is that?

_Chignon._ Sir, my lady wish to speak to you in her boudoir. She sent me to conduct you, sir.

_Alscrip._ [_Imitating._] Yes, sir, but I will first conduct myself to this lady--Tell me this minute, who she is?

_Chignon._ Sir, she come to live here, companion to my lady--Mademoiselle study some musique--she must not be disturbed.

_Alscrip._ Get about your business, monsieur, or I'll disturb every comb in your head--Go tell my daughter to stay till I come to her. I shall give her companion some cautions against saucy Frenchmen, sirrah!

_Chignon._ [_Aside._] Cautions! peste! you are subject a' cautions yourself--I suspecte you to be von old rake, but no ver dangerous rival.

[_Exit._

_Alscrip._ [_To himself, and looking at her with his Glass._] The devil is never tired of throwing baits in my way. [_She comes forward modestly._] By all that's delicious! I must be better acquainted with her. [_He bows. She courtesies, the Music Book still in her Hand._] But how to begin--My usual way of attacking my daughter's maids will never do.

_Miss Alton._ [_Aside._] My situation is very embarrassing.

_Alscrip._ Beauteous stranger, give me leave to add my welcome to my daughter's. Since Alscrip House was established, she never brought any thing into it to please me before.

_Miss Alton._ [_A little confused._] Sir, it is a great additional honour to that Miss Alscrip has done me, to be thought worthy so respectable a protection as yours.

_Alscrip._ I could furnish you with a better word than respectable. It sounds so distant, and my feelings have so little to do with cold respect--I never had such a desire--to make myself agreeable.

_Miss Alton._ [_Aside._] A very strange old man. [_To him, more confused._] Sir, you'll pardon me, I believe Miss Alscrip is waiting.

_Alscrip._ Don't be afraid, my dear, enchanting diffident (zounds, what a flutter am I in!) don't be afraid--my disposition, to be sure, is too susceptible; but then it is likewise so dove-like, so tender, and so innocent. Come, play me that tune, and enchant my ear, as you have done my eye.

_Miss Alton._ Sir, I wish to be excused, indeed it does not deserve your attention.

_Alscrip._ Not deserve it! I had rather hear you, than all the signoritininies together.--These are the strings to which my senses shall dance.

[_Sets the Harp._

_Miss Alton._ Sir, it is to avoid the affectation of refusing what is so little worth asking for.

[_Takes the Harp and plays a Few Bars of a lively Air. ALSCRIP kisses her Fingers with rapture._

_Alscrip._ Oh! the sweet little twiddle-diddles!

_Miss Alton._ For shame, sir, what do you mean?

[_ALSCRIP gets hold of both her Hands and continues kissing her Fingers._

_Miss Alton._ [_Struggling._] Help!

_Enter Miss ALSCRIP._

_Miss Als._ I wonder what my papa is doing all this time?

[_A short Pause--MISS ALSCRIP surprised.--MISS ALTON confused.--ALSCRIP puts his Hand to his Eye._

_Alscrip._ Oh, child! I have got something in my eye, that makes me almost mad.--A little midge--believe.--'Gad, I caught hold of this young lady's hand in one of my twitches, and her nerves were as much in a flutter as if I had bit her.

_Miss Als._ [_Significantly._] Yes, my dear papa, I perceive you have something in your eye, and I'll do my best to take it out immediately----Miss Alton, will you do me the favour to walk into the drawing room?

_Miss Alton._ I hope, madam, you will permit me, at a proper opportunity, to give my explanation of what has passed?

[_Retires._

_Miss Als._ There's no occasion--Let it rest among the catalogue of wonders, like the Glastonbury thorn, that blooms at Christmas.----To be serious, papa, though I carried off your behaviour as well as I could, I am really shocked at it--A man of your years, and of a profession where the opinion of the world is of such consequence--

_Alscrip._ My dear Molly, have not I quitted the practice of attorney, and turned fine gentleman, to laugh at the world's opinion; or, had I not, do you suppose the kiss of a pretty wench would hurt a lawyer? My dear Molly, if the fraternity had no other reflections to be afraid of!

_Miss Als._ Oh! hideous, Molly indeed! you ought to have forgot I had a christened name long ago; am not I going to be a countess? If you did not stint my fortune, by squand'ring yours away upon dirty trulls, I might be called your grace.

_Alscrip._ Spare your lectures, and you shall be called your highness, if you please.

_Enter SERVANT._

_Serv._ Madam, Lady Emily Gayville is in her carriage in the street, will your ladyship be at home?

_Miss Als._ Yes, show her into the drawing room. [_Exit SERVANT._] I entreat, sir, you will keep a little more guard upon your passions; consider the dignity of your house, and if you must be cooing, buy a French figurante.

[_Exit._

_Alscrip._ Well said, my lady countess! well said, quality morals! What am I the better for burying a jealous wife? To be chicken pecked is a new persecution, more provoking than the old one--Oh Molly! Molly!--

[_Exit._