NIG. _(Rising.)_ I confess it has been a want of moral courage: for, long as I have pined for the joys of conjugal life, such is my universal admiration of the fair sex, that if I _have_ hesitated to pass my life in the society of _one_ female, 'twas in fear that I should discover some radical defect of temper or manner, that might disturb my notions of woman generally; and I rather prefer to admire you through the gay medium of fancy, than venture to take a peep at you through the pale optics of truth. ALL. Hear! hear! hear! MISS COY. And yet if you could find a woman that would be happy only in your presence, who would receive you with smiles and see you depart with tears, who would anticipate your every wish, be your companion, friend and comforter, you would cast aside your scruples and boldly dare the worst. I am but repeating your own words, once uttered to me. DAM. Were you ever such an idiot as to say so much? NIG. Yes, yes, it was in a tender moment. PIN. On some autumn evening, eh? MISS SKY. I think, sir, we had better commence a general election for the honor of possessing your hand. Let each candidate publish her list of pledges, and she that may exhibit one that could approach the nearest to your wishes, should be chosen as the representative of your conjugal happiness. NIG. I am afraid the election once settled, as in other cases, many of the pledges would be forgotten; and a wife is a member that there is no unseating, let her disqualifications be ever so unconstitutional. DAM. Hear! hear! hear! PIN. Cheers from the opposition. BOSS. Silence, Pinkey. MISS COY. _(Rises.)_ I am here to vindicate my character, not to expostulate with you, sir. _(To NIGGLE.)_ Miss Snare. MISS SNA. Madam. MISS COY. You, in particular, have been making use of my name very freely. MISS SNA. What have I said. MISS COY. Said! The other evening at Mr. Tattle's, you said that my only motive for going to a watering place every summer, was for the purpose of riding a donkey, that the awkward paces of the animal might so set off my natural graces, that some wandering Lothario might be struck by them. MISS SNA. I see nothing offensive in the remark. BOSS. _(In his chair, F.E.R.)_ An elegant compliment _I_ think. MISS COY. Don't talk to me, puppy. _(To BOSS.)_ BOSS. My dear Miss, I am sorry to see you so bitter, though I am not surprised at it. The superanuated beauty is ever the most acrimonious of old maids; as the finest Burgundy, when spoiled, produces the sharpest vinegar. ALL. _(But NIGGLE.)_ Ha! ha! ha! [_MISS SNARE kisses her hand to BOSS; he rises and looks at himself in the glass._ NIG. I cant allow this. Miss Coy's feelings shall not be trifled with. MISS COY. Oh, sir, your championship is now too late, had it been exerted yesterday morning, this scene might have been spared. _(Sobbing.)_ NIG. She's crying: I can't see her cry. _(Rising.)_ DAM. _(Pulling him to his seat.)_ Sit down. All women can command tears.