Widow. To be sure you do!-Whom could you mean? Elegant youth!-Rapturous thoughts! Soph. I am sure, sir, young Mr Dornton is no profligate! Sulky. [Significantly.] You are sure? Sulky. Humph! Soph. And 'tis very scandalous, very scandalous indeed, to say he's my ma's lover! Sulky, Humph! Soph. Because he is a fine genteel young gentle. man; and you know ma' is Widow. Pray, minikin, be less flippant with your tongue. Soph. Why, la, ma', you yourself know you are too Widow. Go up to your chamber, child! Soph. I am sure, ma', I say it is very scandalous to call the handsome Mr Dornton Sulky. Do you blush? lover! your [Exit, skipping. Widow. Blush indeed!-Blush! Ha, ha, ha! You are a very unaccountable creature, Mr Sulky!-Blush at the babbling of a child? Sulky. Who is your rival! Widow Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!-My rival!-The poor minikin!-My rival!-But I have a message for you; now, do compose your features to softness and complacency! Look pleasant, if you can! Smile for once in your life! Sulky. Don't make love to me! I'll have nothing to say to you u! Widow. Ha, ha, ha! Love! Sulky. Yes, you make love to Dornton! Nay, you make love to the booby Goldfinch! Even I am not secure in your company ! Widow. Ha, ha, ha! You are a shocking being, Mr Sulky!-But, if you should happen to see Mr Dornton, do astonish your acquaintance: do a goodnatured thing, and tell him I am at home all day— Love to you! Ha, ha, ha! Oh, you figure! You caricatura of tenderness! You insupportable thing! Sulky. [Sighs. Ah!-All labour in vain! Enter JENNY. Stand out of the way, girl! [Exit. [Exit. Jenny. There she goes! [Looking after the WiDow.] That's lucky! This way, sir! Enter HARRY DORNTON, followed by his own SERVANT, with Bills in his Hand. Jenny. My mistress is gone up to her toilet, sir: but I can send you somebody you may like better ! [Exit. Harry. Obliging Abigail! [Looking over his papers.] 'Sdeath! What! all these tradesmen's bills? Serv. All, sir. Mr Smith sent me after you with them. Harry. When were they brought? Serv. Some last night, but most this morning, Harry. Ill news travels fast, and honesty is devilish industrious. Go round to them all, return their bills, and bid them come themselves to-day. Has Mr Williams, the hosier, sent in his bill? Serv. No, sir. Harry. I thought as much.-Tell him to come with the rest, and on his life not fail. Serv. Very well, sir. Enter SOPHIA, joyously. [Exit. Soph. Oh, Mr Dornton, I am glad to see you! Do you know, I've got the song by heart that you was so good as to teach me ? Harry. And do you know, my charming Sophia, you are the most delightful, beautiful, bewitching scholar, that ever took lesson! Soph. La, Mr Dornton, I'm sure I'm very stupid! Harry. That you are all intelligence, all grace, all wit! Soph. To be sure, my ma' caught me singing it, and she was pettish; because you know it's all about love, and ends with a happy marriage. Harry. But why pettish? Soph. La! I can't tell. I suppose she wants to have all the marriage in the world to herself! It's her whole talk! I do believe she'd be married every morning that she rises, if any body would have her! Harry. Think not of her, my sweet Sophia, but tell me Soph. What? Harry. I dare not ask. Harry. Lest I should offend you. Soph. Nay, now, Mr Dornton, that is not right. of you! I am never offended with any body; and I am sure I should not be offended with you! My grandma' always said I was the best tempered girl in the world. What is it? Harry, Were you [Taking her hand.] Did you. ever know what it is to love? Soph. La, now, how could you ask one such a question? You know very well one must not tell!Besides, you know too one must not be in love. Harry. Why not? Soph. Because-because I'm but a girl.-My grandma' has told me a hundred times, it's a sin for any body to be in love, before they be a woman grown; full one-and-twenty; and I am not eighteen! Harry Love, they say, cannot be resisted. Soph. Ah, but I have been taught better!-It may be resisted-Nobody need be in love, unless they like and so I won't be in love; for I won't wilfully do amiss. [With great positiveness.] No! I won't love any person; though I should love him ever so dearly. Harry. [Aside.] Angelic innocence !-[Aloud.] Right, lovely Sophia, guard your heart against se ducers. Soph. Do you know, it is full five weeks since Valentine's Day; and, because I'm not one-and-twenty, nobody sent me a valentine! Harry. And did you expect one? Soph. Nah-! I can't say but I did think-In Gloucestershire, if any young man happens to have a liking for a young woman, she is sure to hear of it on Valentine Day. But perhaps Valentine Day does not fall so soon here as it does in the country? Harry. Why, it is possible you may yet receive a valentine. Soph. Nay, now, but don't you go to think that I am asking for one; for that would be very wrong of me, and I know better. My grandma' told me I must never mention nor think of such things, till I am a woman, full one-and-twenty grown; and that if I were to find such a thing at my window, or under my pillow, or concealed in a plum-cake Harry. A plum-cake? Soph. Yes: I assure you I have heard of a valentine sent baked in a plum-cake-And so I would not receive such a thing for the world; no, not from the finest man on earth, if I did not think him to be a true, and faithful, true, true lover. Harry. But how must he prove his faith and truth? Soph. Why, first he must love me very dearly! With all his heart and soul!-And then he must be willing to wait till I am one-and-twenty. Harry. And would not you love in return? Harry, Not sooner ? Soph. Oh, no-I must not! Harry, Surely you might if you pleased? Soph. Oh, but you must not persuade me to that! If you do, I shall think you are a bad man; such as my grandma' warned me of! Harry. And do you think me so? Soph. Do I?-No!-I would not think you so, f for a thousand, thousand golden guineas! Harry. [Aside.] Fascinating purity!—What am I about! To deceive or trifle with such unsuspecting affection would indeed be villainy! Goldfinch. [Without at a distance.] Is she above? Must see her! Soph. La, I hear that great, ridiculous, horsejockey oaf Goldfinch coming up!-[Sighs.] Good bye, Mr Dornton! Harry. Heaven bless you, Sophia! Sweet Sophia, Heaven bless you, my lovely angel!-Heigho! Soph. Heigho! Gold. [Without.] Is she here? Serv. [Without.] I don't know, sir. [Exit. Enter GOLDFINCH, in a high-collared Coat, several Under-waistcoats, Buckskin Breeches, covering his Calves, short Boots, long Spurs, high-crowned Hat, Hair in the extreme, &c. &c. Gold. Ha! My tight one! Harry. [Surveying him.] Well, Charles! Gold. How you stare! An't I the go? That's yoursort! Harry. Ha, ha, ha! Gold. Where's the Widow? Harry. Gone up to dress, and will not be down these two hours. Gold. A hundred to eighty, I'd sup up a string of |