mployed by Ensign Beverley.

THOMAS
I doubt, Mr. Fag, you ha'n't changed for the better.

FAG
I have not changed, Thomas.

THOMAS
No! Why didn't you say you had left young master?

FAG
No.--Well, honest Thomas, I must puzzle you no farther:--briefly
then--Captain Absolute and Ensign Beverley are one and the same person.

THOMAS
The devil they are!

FAG
So it is indeed, Thomas; and the ensign half of my master being on
guard at present--the captain has nothing to do with me.

THOMAS
So, so!--What, this is some freak, I warrant!--Do tell us, Mr. Fag, the
meaning o't--you know I ha' trusted you.

FAG
You'll be secret, Thomas?

THOMAS
As a coach-horse.

FAG
Why then the cause of all this is--Love,--Love, Thomas, who (as you may
get read to you) has been a masquerader ever since the days of Jupiter.

THOMAS
Ay, ay;--I guessed there was a lady in the case:--but pray, why does
your master pass only for ensign?--Now if he had shammed general
indeed----

FAG
Ah! Thomas, there lies the mystery o' the matter. Hark'ee, Thomas, my
master is in love with a lady of a very singular taste: a lady who
likes him better as a half pay ensign than if she knew he was son and
heir to Sir Anthony Absolute, a baronet of three thousand a year.

THOMAS
That is an odd taste indeed!--But has she got the stuff, Mr. Fag? Is
she rich, hey?

FAG
Rich!--Why, I believe she owns half the stocks! Zounds! Thomas, she
could pay the national debt as easily as I could my washerwoman! She
has a lapdog that eats out of gold,--she feeds her parrot with small
pearls,--and all her thread-papers are made of bank-notes!

THOMAS
Bravo, faith!--Odd! I warrant she has a set of thousands at least:--but
does she draw kindly with the captain?

FAG
As fond as pigeons.

THOMAS
May one hear her name?

FAG
Miss Lydia Languish.--But there is an old tough aunt in the way;
though, by-the-by, she has never seen my master--for we got acquainted
with miss while on a visit in Gloucestershire.

THOMAS
Well--I wish they were once harnessed together in matrimony.--But pray,
Mr. Fag, what kind of a place is this Bath?--I ha' heard a deal of
it--here's a mort o' merrymaking, hey?

FAG
Pretty well, Thomas, pretty well--'tis a good lounge; in the morning we
go to the pump-room (though neither my master nor I drink the waters);
after breakfast we saunter on the parades, or play a game at billiards;
at night we dance; but damn the place, I'm tired of