m the attempts of an
assassin.--

DIMPLE. Mighty well! Very fine, indeed! Ladies and gentlemen, I take my
leave; and you will please to observe, in the case of my deportment, the
contrast between a gentleman who has read Chesterfield and received the
polish of Europe, and an unpolished, untravelled American.

[_Exit._

_Enter MARIA._

MARIA. Is he indeed gone?--

LETITIA. I hope, never to return.

VAN ROUGH. I am glad I heard of those bills; though it's plaguy unlucky;
I hoped to see Mary married before I died.

MANLY. Will you permit a gentleman, sir, to offer himself as a suitor to
your daughter? Though a stranger to you, he is not altogether so to her,
or unknown in the city. You may find a son-in-law of more fortune, but
you can never meet with one who is richer in love for her, or respect
for you.

VAN ROUGH. Why, Mary, you have not let this gentleman make love to you
without my leave?

MANLY. I did not say, sir--

MARIA. Say, sir!--I--the gentleman, to be sure, met me accidentally.

VAN ROUGH. Ha, ha, ha! Mark me, Mary; young folks think old folks to be
fools; but old folks know young folks to be fools. Why, I knew all about
this affair:--This was only a cunning way I had to bring it about. Hark
ye! I was in the closet when you and he were at our house. [_Turns to
the company._] I heard that little baggage say she loved her old father,
and would die to make him happy! Oh! how I loved the little
baggage!--And you talked very prudently, young man. I have inquired into
your character, and find you to be a man of punctuality and mind the
main chance. And so, as you love Mary, and Mary loves you, shall have my
consent immediately to be married. I'll settle my fortune on you, and
go and live with you the remainder of my life.

MANLY. Sir, I hope--

VAN ROUGH. Come, come, no fine speeches; mind the main chance, young
man, and you and I shall always agree.

LETITIA. I sincerely wish you joy [_Advancing to MARIA._]; and hope your
pardon for my conduct.

MARIA. I thank you for your congratulations, and hope we shall at once
forget the wretch who has given us so much disquiet, and the trouble
that he has occasioned.

CHARLOTTE. And I, my dear Maria,--how shall I look up to you for
forgiveness? I, who, in the practice of the meanest arts, have violated
the most sacred rights of friendship? I can never forgive myself, or
hope charity from the w