_Y. Mir._ Mustapha.--Now, madam, the inventory of your fortunes? _Lam._ My name is Lamorce--my birth, noble; I was married young, to a proud, rude, sullen, impetuous fellow;--the husband spoiled the gentleman;--crying ruined my face, till at last, I took heart, leaped out of a window, got away to my friends, sued my tyrant, and recovered my fortune.--I lived from fifteen to twenty, to please a husband; from twenty to forty, I'm resolved to please myself, and from thence, upwards, I'll humour the world. _Y. Mir._ Ha! ha! ha! I rejoice in your good fortune, with all my heart! _Lam._ O, now I think on't, Mr. Mustapha, you have got the finest ring there, I could scarcely believe it right; pray let me see it. _Y. Mir._ Hum! Yes, madam, 'tis--'tis right--but--but--but--but--but it was given me by my mother--an old family ring, madam--an old-fashioned, family ring. _Lam._ Ay, sir!--If you can entertain yourself for a moment, I'll wait on you immediately. _Y. Mir._ Certainly the stars have been in a strange, intriguing humour, when I was born.--Ay, this night should I have had a bride in my arms, and that I should like well enough! But what should I have to-morrow night? The same. And what next night? The same. And what next night? The very same: Soup for breakfast, soup for dinner, soup for supper, and soup for breakfast again--But here's variety. _I love the fair, who freely gives her heart,_ _That's mine by ties of nature, not of art;_ _Who boldly owns whate'er her thoughts indite,_ _And is too modest for a hypocrite._ [LAMORCE _appears at the Door; as he runs towards her, Four_ BRAVOES _step in before her. He starts back._ She comes, she comes--Hum, hum--Bitch--Murdered, murdered, to be sure! The cursed strumpet! To make me send away my servants--Nobody near me! These cut-throats always make sure work.----What shall I do? I have but one way. Are these gentlemen your relations, madam? _Lam._ Yes, sir. _Y. Mir._ Gentlemen, your most humble servant;--sir, your most faithful; yours, sir, with all my heart; your most obedient--come, gentlemen, [_Salutes all round._] please to sit--no ceremony--next the lady, pray, sir. _Lam._ Well, sir, and how d'ye like my friends? [_They all sit._ _Y. Mir._ O, madam, the most finished gentlemen! I was never more happy in good company in my life; I suppose, sir, you have travelled? _1 Bra._ Yes, sir. _Y. Mir._ Which way, may I presume? _1 Bra._ In a western barge, sir. _Y. Mir._ Ha! ha! ha! very pretty! facetious pretty gentleman! _Lam._ Ha! ha! ha! sir, you have got the prettiest ring upon your finger there-- _Y. Mir._ Ah! Madam, 'tis at your service, with all my heart! [_Offering the Ring._ _Lam._ By no means, sir, a family ring! [_Takes it._