Your dinner I've disturbed, I fear."
"O pray, sir, take your dinner here.
"You'll find a welcome warm and hearty."
"Indeed, sir, I should spoil your party."
"There's not a soul but I and you."

66

Thanks, then, I don't care if I do!"
So kindly by his host entreated,
Behold our hero at the table seated,
And paying off as well as he might,
The keen demands of appetite.

And there content to sit and chatter
'Bout this and that and t'other matter,
As if he'd not the least intention

This thousand pounds of his to mention.
And now "the King and Constitution,"
With ill success to revolution,

With many a warm and loyal toast
Had oft been given, when our good host
With gleaming eyes took time to say,
"Let us begin the order of the day —
I think you gave some intimation
About a saving speculation-

A matter which you chance to know
Saves me a thousand pounds or so."
"Ah! Yes, my speculation's simply this:
You have a daughter, sir, a pretty miss."

66

What can my daughter have to do

In this affair twixt me and you?
"She is the means of my intention
For giving you the sum I mention."
"The deuce; what project's in your pate?"
You've no objection to the marriage state?
"Not if she marry with my own consent."
And, if so married, what is your intent?
What sum might it be in your power
To give with her by way of dower?"
Well, if she marry on such grounds,
I'll give with her- ten thousand pounds
"Ten thousand, sir, I think you say?"
What, sir, on the marriage-day?"

66

66

Then, quickly, sir, let her be mine.

"I do." "That's true."

I'll take her off your hands with nine,
And that I'm sure you'll call good grounds,
Of saving you one thousand pounds."

A CLEAR BARGAIN.

Scene from an Old Play.

CHARACTERS:

HANS WILLIAM - JOSEPHINE.

H. WIL. Good morning, young lady.

Jos. It is rather afternoon than morning.

H. WIL. Not where the day breaks so brightly.

Jos. Very gallant, truly. May I take the liberty to ask

H. WIL. Who I am? I am a queer fellow.

Jos. Well, but queer fellows have names.

H. WIL. Mine is Timothy Trifle, at your service; plain Timothy with the men dear Timothy with the women.

Jos. With all of them? H. WIL. With all who wish to please me. what is your name?

And now,

Jos. Myname is Louisa Rose. I am a poor clergyman's orphan, who lives in this house. Perhaps you have business with Mr. Von Snarl.

H. WIL. No- but I have with his daughter.
Jos. With his daughter.

H. WIL. They say she has a great fortune; and, about six weeks ago, says my mother one evening to me, "Dear Timothy, you are a poor fellow, and must make your fortune by marriage."

Jos. Very wisely.

H. WIL. Very motherly, you mean. "There's Mr. Von Snarl," says she, "your father's old school-fellow, has a most charming daughter." I dare say you must know her.

Jos. Oh, to be sure; I know Josephine as well as I know myself.

H. WIL. Is she handsome?

Jos. When she consults her looking-glass, she thinks so. H. WIL. Is she like you?

Jos. She is not handsomer than I am.

H. WIL. I like that

sense?

she has no need. Has she good

Jos. Not enough to prevent her from talking.

H. WIL. Well, I like that. Is she kind-hearted, good to the poor?

Jos. Oh, Lord! the poor get nothing in this house, if I do not give it them.

H. WIL. I don't like that. Is she grave or lively?
Jos. As wild as a young colt.

H. WIL. Ay, then she'll just do for me.

Jos. But there's one thing, Mr. Queerfellow, with your "I like that, and I don't like that," that's against you; Josephine's hand is promised.

H. WIL. To whom?

Jos. To

William.

a young man at Amsterdam one Hans

H. WIL. Oh, I know him. I'll rid her of that booby. Jos. What sort of a man is he?

H. WIL. He! A stupid, pedantic fellow, with a fullbottomed wig.

Jos. Oh, Lord!

H. WIL. A shrill voice and bandy legs.

Jos. Oh, Lord! I don't like that.

H. WIL. You don't like it? How does it concern you then? Jos. Oh, it's nothing at all to me, to be sure - only for my friend's sake. (Aside.) So I had nearly betrayed myself. Do you wish to see my father, sir?

H. WIL. Your father?

Jos. My friend's father, I mean. (Going.)

H. WIL. Hold, hold a moment (looks steadfastly in her face). Your name is Louisa Rose. It may be; there's

not a rose-bed in Christendom that would refuse to own you; but deuce take me if I believe you. Shall I tell you your real name?

Jos. Well, what is it?

H. WIL. Josephine.

Jos.

And what makes you suppose so?

H. WIL. I don't suppose-I am certain.

Jos. And now, sir, I desire to know whether you are Hans William or Trifle?

H. WIL. Which do you wish?

Jos. Neither. Can you speak the truth?

H. WIL. Certainly.

Jos.

Do it then this moment.

H. WIL. I am in love with you.

Jos. Psh! who asked you that?

H. WIL. Have you settled what day will be convenient

for our wedding?

Jos. What, then you are determined to marry me?

H. WIL. Positively.

Jos. And have you spoken to my father?

H. WIL. Yes.

Jos. And what said he?

H. WIL. He requested me never to put my foot over his threshold again.

Jos. Indeed! and what induces you to refuse him such a trifling request?

H. WIL. I do not. I mean to take him at his word, only I design to take you with me.

Jos. Are you quite sure of that?

H. WIL. Quite.

Jos. Withou tletting me know who you are? When a man intends to rob an honest girl of her name he should at least provide her with another.

H. WIL. Nay, I give you your choice of two.
Jos. Well, then, your name is not Trifle?
H. WIL. No more than yours is Louisa Rose.
Jos. Why did you wish to impose on me?

H. WIL. I'll tell you. Your father and mine have treated our love a little too much in a mercantile manner. Jos. Our love!

H. WIL. I did not wish to contradict my father, and as my heart was free, I neither promised nor refused, but I was determined first to take a look at you. If I had not liked you, I should have been off again in a moment; but here I am still; and, to own the truth at once I do like

H. WIL. And, therefore, meaning to be a dutiful son -(advances towards Jos.)

Jos. Hold! hold! not in such haste, perhaps I may have a mind first to look at you too.

H. WIL. With all my heart. (Turns round.)

Jos. The outside is well enough; but who will answer for the inside?

H. WIL. That you'll find out after the wedding.

Jos. A clear bargain, my father says, prevents quarrels. Suppose we agree to tell our own faults to one another, and then try if we can be friends.

H. WIL. With all my heart.
Jos. Well, do you begin.

H. WIL

First, I am hot-headed and passionate.

Jos. That may be cured by good temper on my part. H. WIL. I'm careless.

Jos. That will be cured when you have a wife to look after.

H. WIL. I am vain.

Jos. That you must only be of me.

H. WIL. I shall be vainer than ever if I win you for my wife.

Jos. Well, that I'll forgive. Proceed.

H. WIL. That is all.

Jos. Oh, then you may be endured.

H. WIL. I hope so; and now it's your turn to tell your faults.

Jos. I have none.

H. WIL. None at all?

Jos. Girls have no faults before marriage.

H. WIL. And after marriage?

Jos. Have none but in the eyes of their husbands. H. WIL. So we have settled our accounts already? Jos. Hold! hold! there are a few other things to be discussed. Have you no bad habits?

H. WIL. None that I know of.

Jos. How do you pass the day when you are at home? H. WIL. I have a foolish custom of my country; I like a pipe for an hour or two.

Jos. I cannot endure it; you must give up the pipe.
H. WIL. I shall find that difficult, perhaps.

Jos. As you please; I can play with my lap-dog while you are smoking.

H. WIL. Your lap-dog!

Jos. I can leave him when you leave your pipe.

H. WIL. I give up the pipe.

Jos. I give up the lap-dog.

day.

H. WIL. I love to dine at two.

Jos. I hate to dine till four.

Well, proceed with the

H. WIL. For your sake I can dine an hour later.
Jos. To oblige you I would dine an hour earlier.
H. WIL. Then at three.