DAM. Well, well, never mind, Miss Macaw--the older you grow, the more your beauties will become developed. You are like the great American Aloe, by the time you're a hundred years old, you'll be in full bloom! eh? Ha! ha! Now, down on our knees, poor wretches that we are! [_All the gentlemen drop on one knee to their respective ladies._ DAM. Now--now for the mystery--now for the lady of the house! Where is she? MISS MEA. Here, sir! ALL. _(The gentlemen rising.)_ You! CHE. You, Jessy! MISS MEA. I am the lady of this house; and you, sir, have promised to marry the object of your aversion--an heiress. To avoid the importunities of heartless fortune-hunters, and in the hope to be loved for myself alone, I have resided at the cottage adjacent with my worthy relative in seclusion. Now you can comprehend my indignation, when I discovered that you were using the same means that I had selected, to gain my future happiness. CHE. And you _shall_ be happy, if my affection can make you so. I have seen the errors of married men, and will avoid them; you shall be treated with that attention that you are entitled to demand. I will neither harrass you with ill-temper, render you miserable by dissipation, nor insult you by slighting your society; but strive with all my heart to make you as happy as I am sure you deserve to be. DAM. Oh, mighty fine, mighty fine--you'll tell a different story in a few months! Oh! what an unhappy set of wretches we shall all be shortly! Listen while I your miseries rehearse, Prose can't express them, I must speak in verse! MISS COY. Pray hold your tongue--_your_ arguments can't shake us, 'Tis time for troubles when they overtake us; Those who meet coming miseries half way, Deserve to have them---- NIGGLE. That I've tried to say A dozen times when I have been debating Whether to wed or not---- MISS MEADOWS. Your fluctuating Is over now; for lo! a happy bride Is wooed and won, and smiling by your side! DAMPER. Poor wretch! anticipation strikes him mute! MISS MACAW. Dry your wet blanket do, ungenial brute! If _your_ cold bosom no warm spark inherits, Is this a time to damp their ardent spirits? BOSS. Oh! let him say his worst, he's harmless now-- MISS SNARE _to_ BOSS. To _your_ decision every one must bow! BOSS. Dear soul, _my_ choice I never shall regret; MISS SKYLARK, _(aside.)_ Self love and flattery ne'er quarrell'd yet! What say _you_, sir? _(To PINKEY.)_ PINKEY. My lot in life is cast, Now I've the rubicon of popping past. CHESTER. I mean to prove, when passion may decline, That love and matrimony _can_ combine! MISS SKYLARK _(singing)._ Then "Life let us cherish while yet the taper glows;" DAMPER.