_Silv._ Oh, my Lady, we shall have company enough in a trice; if your carriage is seen at my door, no other will pass it, I am sure. _1st Lady._ Familiar Monster! [_Aside._] That's a beautiful Diana, Mr. Silvertongue; but in the name of Wonder, how came Actæon to be placed on the top of a House? _Silv._ That's a David and Bathsheba, Ma'am. _Lady._ Oh, I crave their pardon!----I remember the Names, but know nothing of the Story. _More Company enters._ _1st Gent._ Was not that Lady Frances Touchwood, coming up with Mrs. Racket? _2d Gent._ I think so;----yes, it is, faith.----Let us go nearer. _Enter Lady_ Frances, _Mrs._ Racket, _and Miss_ Ogle. _Silv._ Yes, Sir, this is to be the first Lot:--the Model of a City, in wax. _2d Gent._ The Model of a City! What City? _Silv._ That I have not been able to discover; but call it Rome, Pekin, or London, 'tis still a City: you'll find in it the same jarring interests, the same passions, the same virtues, and the same vices, whatever the name. _Gent._ You may as well present us a Map of _Terra Incognita_. _Silv._ Oh, pardon me, Sir! a lively imagination would convert this waxen City into an endless and interesting amusement. For instance--look into this little House on the right-hand; there are four old Prudes in it, taking care of their Neighbours Reputations. This elegant Mansion on the left, decorated with Corinthian pillars--who needs be told that it belongs to a Court Lord, and is the habitation of Patriotism, Philosophy, and Virtue? Here's a City Hall--the rich steams that issue from the windows, nourish a neighbouring Work-House. Here's a Church--we'll pass over that, the doors are shut. The Parsonage-house comes next;--we'll take a peep here, however.--Look at the Doctor! he's asleep on a volume of Toland; whilst his Lady is putting on _rouge_ for the Masquerade.--Oh! oh! this can be no English City; our Parsons are all orthodox, and their Wives the daughters of Modesty and Meekness. _Lady_ Frances _and Miss_ Ogle _come forward, followed by_ Courtall. _Lady Fran._ I wish Sir George was here.----This man follows me about, and stares at me in such a way, that I am quite uneasy. _Miss Ogle._ He has travell'd, and is heir to an immense estate; so he's impertinent by Patent. _Court._ You are very cruel, Ladies. Miss Ogle--you will not let me speak to you. As to this little scornful Beauty, she has frown'd me dead fifty times. _Lady Fran._ Sir--I am a married Woman. (_Confus'd._) _Court._ A married Woman! a good hint. (_Aside._) 'Twould be a shame if such a charming Woman was not married. But I see you are a Daphne just come from your sheep, and your meadows; your crook, and your waterfalls. Pray now, who is the happy Damon, to whom you have vow'd eternal truth and constancy? _Miss Ogle._ 'Tis Lady Frances Touchwood, Mr. Courtall, to whom you are speaking.