ning.)

Hyacinth. Howwid fellar--I thought I should never get wid of him--it's
evident he's jealous--ar, good idea--I'll give him something to be
jealous about. I'll wing the bell and finish captivating Susan. (Rings.
Re-enter John.) John. Want me, sir? Here I am, sir--fed the horse, sir.

Hyacinth (waving his hand angrily towards the door). Ar--go away,
fellar, and tell the young woman to answaar that bell. (John leaves the
room, muttering, If I do I'm blessed. Hyacinth struts up to the glass,
arranges his hair, pulls up his shirt-collar, and rings again. Re-enter
Susan.) Hyacinth. Pway, Susan, are you going to be mawwied? Susan
(colouring). No, sir--a--yes, sir--I can't tell, sir.

Hyacinth. No, sir--yes, sir--ar--I see how it is--the idea has occurred
to you--it's that fellar John, I suppose? Susan. Yes, sir--it's John,
sir, if you please. Hyacinth. Well--ar--perhaps I don't exactly please.
Now, listen to me, Susan. I'm an independent gentleman, vewy wich
(aside, Wish I was)--lots of servants and cawwiages, and all that sort
of thing. I only want a wife, and--a-hem--captivated by your beauty, I'm
wesolved to mawwy you. (Aside. That will do the business.) Susan. La!
sir, you're joking.

Hyacinth. Ar--I never joke--ar--of course you consent! Susan. To marry
you, sir? Hyacinth. Ar--yes--to mawwy me. Susan. What! and give up John?
Hyacinth. I fear we cannot dispense with that sacwifice.

Susan. And you would have me prove false to my true love; deceive a poor
lad that cares for me; wring his honest heart, and perhaps drive him to
take to evil courses, for the sake of your fine carriages and servants?
No, sir, if you was a duke, I would not give up John to marry you.

Hyacinth. Vewy fine, you did that little bit of constancy in vewy good
style; but now, having welievedyour feelings, you may as well do a
little bit of nature, and own that, womanlike, you have changed your
mind.

Susan. When I do, sir, I'll be sure to let you know. ~349~~ (Aside. A
dandified fop! why, John's worth twenty such as him.) I'll send John in
with your dinner, sir. [Curtsies and exit, leaving Hyacinth transfixed
with astonishment.']

Scene III.--Front of inn.

Enter Susan with black ribbons in her cap. Susan. Heigho! so the gout's
carried off poor old master at last. Ah! well, he was always a great
plague to everybody, and it's one's duty to be resigned--he's been dead
more than two months now, and it's above a month since mistress wen