[_Exeunt._ SCENE._-An Apartment in_ MELESINDA'S _House._ MELESINDA _sola, as if musing._ _Melesinda._ H, H, H. Sure it must be something precious by its being concealed. It can't be Homer, that is a Heathen's name; nor Horatio, that is no surname: what if it be Hamlet? the Lord Hamlet--pretty, and I his poor distracted Ophelia! No,'tis none of these; 'tis Harcourt or Hargrave, or some such sounding name, or Howard, high-born Howard, that would do; maybe it is Harley, methinks my H. resembles Harley, the feeling Harley. But I hear him! and from his own lips I will once forever be resolved. _Enter Mr. H._ _Mr. H._ My dear Melesinda. _Melesinda._ My dear H. that is all you give me power to swear allegiance to,--to be enamored of inarticulate sounds, and call with sighs upon an empty letter. But I will know. _Mr. H._ My dear Melesinda, press me no more for the disclosure of that, which in the face of day so soon must be revealed. Call it whim, humor, caprice, in me. Suppose, I have sworn an oath, never, till the ceremony of our marriage is over, to disclose my true name. _Melesinda._ Oh! H, H, H. I cherish here a fire of restless curiosity which consumes me. 'Tis appetite, passion, call it whim, caprice, in me. Suppose I have sworn, I must and will know it this very night. _Mr. H_. Ungenerous Melesinda! I implore you to give me this one proof of your confidence. The holy vow once past, your H. shall not have a secret to withhold. _Melesinda_. My H. has overcome: his Melesinda shall pine away and die, before she dare express a saucy inclination; but what shall I call you till we are married? _Mr. H_. Call me? call me anything, call me Love, Love! ay Love: Love will do very well. _Melesinda_. How many syllables is it, Love? _Mr. H_. How many? ud, that is coming to the question with a vengeance! One, two, three, four,--what does it signify how many syllables? _Melesinda_. How many syllables, Love? _Mr. H_. My Melesinda's mind, I had hoped, was superior to this childish curiosity. _Melesinda_. How many letters are there in it? [_Exit_ MR. H. _followed by_ MELESINDA _repeating the question_. SCENE.--_A Room in the Inn. Two Waiters disputing_. _1st Waiter_. Sir Harbottle Hammond, you may depend upon it. _2d Waiter_. Sir Harry Hardcastle, I tell you. _1st Waiter_. The Hammonds of Huntingdonshire. _2d Waiter_. The Hardcastles of Hertfordshire. _1st Waiter_. The Hammonds. _2d Waiter_. Don't tell me: does not Hardcastle begin, with an H? _1st Waiter_. So does Hammond for that matter. _2d Waiter_. Faith, so it does if you go to spell it, I did not think of that. I begin to be of your opinion: he is certainly a Hammond. _1st Waiter_. Here comes Susan Chambermaid: maybe she can tell. _Enter_ SUSAN. _Both_. Well, Susan, have you heard anything who the strange gentleman is?