Sir Greg. That's not true, Mr. Valence; I intend both he and she shall live with me; they shall down to Dirty Park next week, and there they shall remain.

Young Ken. I'll be curs'd though, if we do.

Val. That very argument makes against you; for if he shou'd have fix'd on a private gentlewoman, and that you don't know but he hath, she may go down to Dirty Park; but a woman of quality-why, Sir Gregory, she'd fetch Dirty Park up hither, and convert a thousand of your acres into a half a rood in Grosvenor-square.

Young Ken. Ay, into half a rood in Grosvenor-square. Sir Greg. Would she? let me see her there once, I'll answer for her; why, Mr. Valence, I'll tell you what I did myself. I married this boy's mother in this town, she was a woman of fashion, a well-bred woman; though I had but a small fortune with her, but twenty thousand pounds.—I married her for love; well, the next morning, down trundled her and I to Dirty Park, and when I had her there, ecod, I kept her there: and whenever she asked to go to London, my answer was, that as I hated the town myself, she had better stay till she had a daughter old enough to be her companion.

Val. But she was not a woman of quality, Sir Gregory.

Sir Greg. No, not quite your tip-top of all, not one of your duchesses nor your countesses, but her father was a squire, and that's quality enough.

Val. Now you talk like a reasonable man.

Young Ken. Ay, faith, that's something like a Christian.

Sir Greg. Why, you rogue, do you make a heathen of me? why, did I ever talk otherwise?

Val. Nay, do not be captious, Sir Gregory.

Sir Greg. Captious! ha, ha, ha! why do you think I am angry with the boy for his wit? no, no, let him be

as sharp as he will, I always encourage his wit, that is the chief thing he learnt in his travels.

Enter SERVANT.

Serv. Sir George Boncour, Sir

Sir Greg. But come, Mr. Valence, let's go and crack one bottle together.

Val. Shew him up. [Exit Servant.] Excuse me, Sir Gregory, I have business.

Sir Greg. Well, come Greg, you shan't flinch-ah, Mr. Valence, I assure you the rogue is as true an Englishman at his glass as ever. [Exit. Young Ken. I shall give him the slip, and be back again as soon as I can. Sir Greg (within) Why, Greg!

-Greg!

Young Ken. Coming! Pardie! he hollows at me as if I was a whipper-in.

[Exit. Val. This was beyond my hope, beyond my expectation; I despair not of Sir Gregory's consent-but if not, as long as he can't cut off the entail

Enter SIR GEORGE BONcour.

Sir Geo. Your servant, Mr. Valence.

Val. Most noble Sir George, I have not had the

honour of seeing you a great while. I suppose he is come to make up the match, but 'tis too late. [Aside. Sir Geo. I am sorry, Sir, for the occasion of waiting on you now, and so will you too; I know you will: though perhaps it will give you an opportunity of exerting your friendship; that may be some alleviation; in short, my brother is undone.

Val. How!

Sir Geo. Unless one can raise ten thousand pounds within an hour, an execution will be in his house.

Val. An execution in his house for ten thousand pounds! what! a man of his estate?

Sir Geo. Estate! what estate could stand out against the prodigality of his children? besides, between you and me, with all his prudence, he has been dabbling in the funds, that bottomless pit that swallows up any fortune. Estate!-ah, all mortgaged, all eat out; it matters not to tell it, for within these two days the whole town must know he is not worth a groat.

Val. I am very sorry for it; upon my word; I am shock'd to the last degree; poor gentleman! my neighbour, my acquaintance, my friend!

Sir Geo. Do not let it move you too much.

Val. Why do you ask impossibilities? do you think me more than man, or that my heart is stone? is flint? Oh, my good Sir George, you know not how tenderly I feel the misfortunes of others—of my friends especially, and of him my best of friends; I am too tender-hearted for

a man.

Sir Geo. I know your goodness, your excessive goodness, and therefore contrary to the express charge, that of all men you should know nothing of the matter

Val. I am obliged to him-I know the reason of that, but I find you don't.

[Aside. Sir Geo. I say contrary to his express injunction; I acquaint you with his misfortunes; since I know you are both able and willing to save him from disgrace; a mere trifle will do it, though nothing but money will do.

Val. Money! why does he not sell? why does he not mortgage? there is an estate of his contiguous to mine, I have a value for it, as it is his; and rather than it shall go to a stranger, I will borrow the money to purchase it-men in distress always sell pennyworths. [Aside.

Sir Geo. Damn'd rascal! [Aside] Well, I'll tell him what you say.

Val. Pray do. Your humble servant, and pray if that estate be sold, let me have the refusal of it. [Exit Sir Geo.] Mercy on me! where can one find an honest man? that ever he should lay such a plot of intermarriage between our families, when he knew himself undone how wary ought a man to be in each moment of his life, when every fool is a politician, and capable of laying schemes to attack him.

Enter YOUNG VALENCE.

Young Val. O, Sir, I have news which I am sure will please you! Mr. Boncour hath consented to your terms, so there is now no impediment to the union of our families.

Val. Indeed, there is an impediment which will be never got over; in short, I have news for you, which I am afraid will not please you. Mr. Boncour is undone. Young Val. Undone, Sir!

Val. Not worth a groat.

Young Val. How! is it possible?

Val. Indeed, Sir, I don't know by what means men ruin themselves; we see men's fortunes ruined, and others made every day, no one knows how; it is sufficient, I am certain that it is so; and I expect you will have no more thought of his daughter.

Young Val. Truly, Sir, I am not very ambitious of marrying a beggar.

Val. You have none of my blood in you if you are; and, take my word for it, there are in marriage many comfortable hours when a man wants not the assistance of beggary to make him hang himself.

Young Val. Sir, it was in obedience to your commands that I thought of the match at all.

Val. And it is, Sir, in obedience to my commands, that I expect you to break it off.

Young Val. I hope you'll give me leave to do it with civility.

Val. O! with as much civility as you please, Sir; when you are oblig'd by prudence to do what the world calls an ill thing, always do it with civility.

Young Val. Sir, I shall obey you in all things.

Val. Send your sister to me in my closet, I must give her a lesson of the same kind.

Young Val. She will, I am confident, receive it with the same regard. [Exit Young Valence. Val. I have no reason to doubt it, thanks to my severity; for by continually thwarting my children's desires, I made their inclinations so useless to them, that at length they seem'd to have none at all, but to be entirely guided by my will. Severity is, in short, the whole duty of a parent.

[Exit.

SCENE II.

SCENE, BONCOUR's House.

Enter YOUNG BONCOUR and MISS BONCOUR.

Miss Bonc. La, brother, you are always teazing me with your odious questions: what condition is my heart in? what condition is your own in? we seem to be pretty much in the same circumstances.

Young Bonc. I confess, and glory in it. I wonder why the devil women should have more reserve than

men.

Miss Bonc. O, don't be angry with us on that account; we have not a bit more than is useful to us; and really it seems well enough contriv'd to keep your whimsical affections alive, which seldom pursue us longer than you have difficulties thrown in your way.