HARRIET. I shall not be base enough to deceive a father, I give you my honour, sir. LOVEYET. I am very much mistaken if you have not given _that_ to somebody already:--A woman's honour is a very perishable commodity; a little thing often spoils it. HARRIET. By what a feeble tenure does poor woman hold her character and peace of mind!--It is true, sir, that a woman's _reputation_ is too frequently, with ruffian cruelty, blasted in the bud, without a cause; and that so effectually, that it seldom or never flourishes again; but let me remind you, sir, in the words of the poet, that-- _"Honour's a sacred tie, the law of kings;-- It ought not to be sported with."_ LOVEYET. I say it ought to be sported with; and, by my body, 'tis capital sport, too;--eigh, Horace?--[_Sings._]--"Then hoity toity, whisky frisky, &c." TRUEMAN. A truce to your insipid, hard-labour'd wit: the honour you are pleased to call in question, is not an empty name which can be purchased with gold; it is too inestimable to be counterpoised by that imaginary good; otherwise the titles of Honourable and Excellent would be always significant of his Honour's or his Excellency's intrinsic worth;--a thing "devoutly to be wish'd," but unfortunately too seldom exemplified; for, as the dramatic muse elegantly says of money,--"Who steals my purse, steals trash." LOVEYET. I deny it;--the dramatic muse, as you call him, was a fool:--trash indeed! Ha, ha, ha. Money trash! Ready Rhino trash! Golden, glittering, jingling money!--I'm sure he cou'dn't mean the hard stuff. TRUEMAN. Very sublime conceptions, upon my erudition; and expressed by some truly elegant epithets; but your ideas, like your conscience, are of the fashionable, elastic kind;--self-interest can stretch them like Indian-rubber. LOVEYET. What a stupid old gudgeon!--Well, you'll believe what I tell you, sooner or later, Mr. Schoolmaster; so your servant:--as for you, Miss Hypocrite, I wish your Honour farewell, and I guess you may do the same. [_Exit._ TRUEMAN. These insinuations, Harriet, have put my anxiety to the rack. HARRIET. I am happy I can so soon relieve you from it, sir. Young Mr. Loveyet arrived this morning; but, it seems, the old gentleman has entirely forgot him, during his long absence; and when he heard his father's resolution, in consequence of the dispute he had with you, he did not think proper to make himself known. It was this which made him think me so culpable, that you hear he talks of marrying him to my friend Maria. TRUEMAN. I see into the mistake; but the worst construction the affair will admit, does not justify his using you so indecently; and, if it were not for the more powerful consideration of a daughter's happiness, I would make him repent it.