FRANKTON. Last night, in company with several other belles of no small note, who did not look a tittle the handsomer for appearing at the same time with her, I assure you. LOVEYET. Then she's as charming as ever. FRANKTON. Charming as ever! By all that's beautiful, a Seraphim is nothing to her! And as for Cherubims, when they compete with her, _Conscious of her superior charms they stand, And rival'd quite by such a beauteous piece Of mortal composition; they, reluctant, Hide their diminish'd heads._ LOVEYET. You extol her in very rapturous strains, George--I hope you have not been smitten by her vast perfections, like the Cherubims. FRANKTON. I am really enraptur'd with the bewitching little Goddess! LOVEYET. Do you positively think her so much superior to the generality of women? FRANKTON. Most indubitably I do--don't you, pray? LOVEYET. I thought her handsome once--but--but--but you certainly are not in love with her. FRANKTON. Not I, faith. Ha, ha, ha. My enamorata and yours are two distinct persons, I assure you--and two such beauties!--By all that's desirable, if there was only one more in the city who could vie with the lovely girls, and boast of the same elegantly proportioned forms; the same beauty, delicacy and symmetry of features; the same celestial complexion, in which the lily and carnation are equally excell'd; the same---- LOVEYET. Oh, monstrous! Why, they exceed all the Goddesses I ever heard of, by your account. FRANKTON. Well, if you had let me proceed, I should have told you that if one more like them could be found in town, they would make a more beautiful triple than the three renowned goddesses who were candidates for beauty and a golden apple long ago; but no matter now.--The account you have given of the lovely Harriet, has rekindled the flame she so early inspir'd me with, and I already feel myself all the lover; how then shall I feel, when I once more behold the dear maid, like the mother of mankind--"with grace in all her steps, heaven in her eye; in every gesture, dignity and love!" FRANKTON. Aye--and what do you think of your father's sending for you to marry you to this same beautiful piece of mortality? LOVEYET. Is it possible? Then I am happy indeed! But this surpasses my most sanguine hopes! FRANKTON. Did you suppose he would object to the alliance then? LOVEYET. I did not know,--my hope was only founded on the _probability_ of his approving it. FRANKTON. Well, I can now inform you that your hope has a better basis to rest on, and that there is as fair a prospect of its being shortly swallowed up in fruition as ever Cupid and Hymen presented to a happy mortal's view.--For your farther comfort, I have the pleasure to acquaint you, that Mr. Trueman is equally fond of the match. LOVEYET. Better and better--my dear George! You are the best of friends,--my happy genius! My very guardian angel! FRANKTON. Well said, Heroics--come, spout away.