h
pleased he shall see that Uncle to whom he's so obliged, and
which is so gratefully acknowledged by--Dear Brother, your
affectionate Brother_,
Francis Fainwou'd.

--Hum--hark ye, _Charles_, do you know who I am now?

_Gay_. Why, I hope a very honest Friend of mine, _Harry Bellmour_.

_Bel_. No, Sir, you are mistaken in your Man.

_Gay_. It may be so.

_Bel_. I am, d'ye see, _Charles_, this very individual, numerical young
Mr.--_what ye call 'um Fainwou'd_, just come from _St. Omers_ into
_England_--to my Uncle the Alderman. I am, _Charles_, this very Man.

_Gay_. I know you are, and will swear't upon occasion.

_Bel_. This lucky Thought has almost calm'd my mind.
And if I don't fit you, my dear Uncle,
May I never lie with my Aunt.

_Gay_. Ah, Rogue--but prithee what care have you taken about your
Pardon? 'twere good you should secure that.

_Bel_. There's the Devil, _Charles_,--had I but that--but I have had a
very good Friend at work, a thousand Guyneys, that seldom fails; but yet
in vain, I being the first Transgressor since the Act against Duelling.
But I impatient to see this dear delight of my Soul, and hearing from
none of you this six weeks, came from _Brussels_ in this disguise--for
the _Hague_ I have not seen, though hang'd there--but come--let's away,
and compleat me a right _St. Omer's_ Spark, that I may present my self
as soon as they come from Church.

[_Exeunt_.

SCENE II. _Sir_ Cautious Fulbank's _House_.

_Enter Lady_ Fulbank, Pert _and_ Bredwel. Bredwel _gives her a Letter_.

_Lady_ Fulbank _reads_.

_Did my_ Julia _know how I languish in this cruel Separation,
she would afford me her pity, and write oftner. If only the
Expectation of two thousand a year kept me from you, ah!_
Julia, _how easily would I abandon that Trifle for your more
valued sight; but that I know a fortune will render me
more agreeable to the charming_ Julia, _I should quit all my
Interest here, to throw my self at her Feet, to make her
sensible how I am intirely her Adorer_.
Charles Gayman.

--Faith, _Charles_, you lie--you are as welcome to me now,
Now when I doubt thy Fortune is declining,
As if the Universe were thine.

_Pert_. That, Madam, is a noble Gratitude. For if his Fortune be
declining, 'tis sacrificed to his Passion for your Ladyship.
--'Tis all laid out on Love.

L. _Ful_.