_Cler._ How can it, so insensibly to itself, lead us through cares it knows not, through such a wilderness of hopes, fears, joys, sorrows, desires, despairs, ecstasies and torments, with so sweet, yet so anxious vicissitude! _Pounce._ Why, I thought you had never seen her? _Cler._ No more I han't. _Pounce._ Who told you then of her inviting lips, her soft sleepy eyes? _Cler._ You yourself. _Pounce._ Sure you rave, I never spoke of her afore to you. _Cler._ Why, you won't face me down--Did you not just now say she had ten thousand pounds in money, five in jewels, and a thousand a year? _Pounce._ I confess my own stupidity and her charms. Why, if you were to meet, you would certainly please her, you have the cant of loving; but pray, may we be free--that young gentleman. _Cler._ A very honest, modest gentleman of my acquaintance, one that has much more in him than he appears to have. You shall know him better, sir; this is Mr. Pounce; Mr. Pounce, this is Mr. Fainlove; I must desire you to let him be known to you and your friends. _Pounce._ I shall be proud. Well then, since we may be free, you must understand, the young lady, by being kept from the world, has made a world of her own. She has spent all her solitude in reading romances, her head is full of shepherds, knights, flowery meads, groves, and streams, so that if you talk like a man of this world to her, you do nothing. _Cler._ Oh, let me alone--I have been a great traveller in fairy-land myself, I know Oroondates; Cassandra, Astræa and Clelia[82] are my intimate acquaintance. Go my heart's envoys, tender sighs make haste, And with your breath swell the soft zephyr's blast; Then near that fair one if you chance to fly, Tell her, in whispers, 'tis for her I die. _Pounce._ That would do, that would do--her very language. _Cler. Sen._ Why then, dear Pounce, I know thou art the only man living that can serve him. _Pounce._ Gentlemen, you must pardon me, I am soliciting the marriage settlement between her and a country booby, her cousin, Humphry Gubbin, Sir Harry's heir, who is come to town to take possession of her. _Cler. Sen._ Well, all that I can say to the matter is, that a thousand pounds on the day of Jack's marriage to her, is more than you'll get by the despatch of those deeds. _Pounce._ Why, a thousand pounds is a pretty thing, especially when 'tis to take a lady fair out of the hands of an obstinate ill-bred clown, to give her to a gentle swain, a dying enamoured knight. _Cler. Sen._ Ay, dear Pounce, consider but that--the justice of the thing. _Pounce._ Besides, he is just come from the glorious Blenheim![83] Look ye, Captain, I hope you have learned an implicit obedience to your leaders. _Cler._ 'Tis all I know.