madame—in beauty, that copy is not equal to you, but in my mind its merit over the original, in being still the same, is such—that—I cannot find in my heart to part with it.

[Puts it up again.

Lyd. [Softening.] ’Tis your own doing, sir—I, I, I suppose you are perfectly satisfied.

Abs. O, most certainly—sure, now, this is much better than being in love!—ha! ha! ha!—there’s some spirit in this!—What signifies breaking some scores of solemn promises:—all that’s of no consequence, you know. To be sure people will say, that miss don’t know her own mind—but never mind that! Or, perhaps, they may be ill-natured enough to hint, that the gentleman grew tired of the lady and forsook her—but don’t let that fret you.

Lyd. There is no bearing his insolence.

[Bursts into tears.

Re-enter Mrs. Malaprop and Sir Anthony Absolute.

Mrs. Mal. Come, we must interrupt your billing and cooing awhile.

Lyd. This is worse than your treachery and deceit, you base ingrate!

[Sobbing.

Sir Anth. What the devil’s the matter now?—Zounds! Mrs. Malaprop, this is the oddest billing and cooing I ever heard!—but what the deuce is the meaning of it?—I am quite astonished!

Abs. Ask the lady, sir.

Mrs. Mal. O mercy!—I’m quite analyzed, for my part!—Why, Lydia, what is the reason of this?

Lyd. Ask the gentleman, ma’am.

Sir Anth. Zounds! I shall be in a frenzy!—Why, Jack, you are not come out to be any one else, are you?

Mrs. Mal. Ay, sir, there’s no more trick, is there?—you are not like Cerberus, three gentlemen at once, are you?

Abs. You’ll not let me speak—I say the lady can account for this much better than I can.

Lyd. Ma’am, you once commanded me never to think of Beverley again—there is the man—I now obey you: for, from this moment, I renounce him for ever.

[Exit.

Mrs. Mal. O mercy! and miracles! what a turn here is—why, sure, captain, you haven’t behaved disrespectfully to my niece?

Sir Anth. Ha! ha! ha!—ha! ha! ha!—now I see it. Ha! ha! ha!—now I see it—you have been too lively, Jack.

Abs. Nay, sir, upon my word—

Sir Anth. Come, no lying, Jack—I’m sure ’twas so.

Mrs. Mal. O Lud! Sir Anthony!—O fy, captain!