'll tell you stories that shall make
your old heart bound again! Hush! do it quietly--I will, upon my
honour.--What an old fool it is! [_Aside._

_Lady._ Marianne, you mustn't listen to Mr Floriville,--for travellers
may persuade you into any thing--and many a woman has been ruined in one
country, by being told it is the fashion in another.

_Lord._ Here he comes: I see, as plain as my peerage, I sha'n't keep my
temper.

_Enter FLORIVILLE._

_Flor._ Ladies, a thousand pardons, for not waiting on you before, but
this is the first vacant moment I have had since my arrival in Bath.

_Mari._ Sir, your coming at all is taken as a very great compliment,
I'll assure you.

_Lady._ Leave the room immediately--no reply--I will be obeyed--[_To
MARIANNE, who exits._] Mr Floriville, we are very happy to see you.

_Flor._ Ma'am, you do me honour--my lord, where's Harry?--I thought to
have found him here;--what, he didn't chuse to stay?--so much the
better--it shows he's not a man of ceremony--we do the same in Italy.
But, hark ye, uncle,--is this the lady I'm to call my aunt?

_Lord._ My gorge is rising: I shall certainly do him a mischief.

_Flor._ [_Spying at her._] Rather experienced or so--a little antique,
eh!--however, the same motive that makes her a good aunt to me, will
make her a good wife to you--you understand me?

_Lord._ Dam'me if I do.

_Flor._ Well, well, no matter--come, I want to hear every thing--to know
what remarkable occurrences have happened since I left England.--Pray,
Lady Waitfor't, inform me--do let me know every little circumstance.

_Lady._ Rather, sir, we should ask of you what happened in your travels?

_Flor._ Oh, nothing so shocking!--no man can be the herald of his own
praise.

_Lady._ Yes, sir,--but I wish to know how you like the Chapel of
Loretto, the Venus de Medicis of Florence, the Vatican at Rome, and all
the numberless curiosities peculiar to the countries you have travelled
through?

_Lord._ Look ye--I'll answer for it, he knows nothing of the gentlemen
you mention--do you, my sweet pretty?--Oh! you damned puppy!

_Flor._ Why swear, my lord?

_Lord._ Swear, my lord! Zounds! it's my prerogative, and, by----tell me
how you spent your time, sir?

_Flor._ Why, in contemplating living angels, not dead antiquities;--in
basking in the rays of beauty, not mouldering in the dust of
ancestry;--in mirth, festivity, and pleasure; not study, pedantr