_Rover._ Indeed?--Pleasant enough! who is this genius? _John._ I've dispatch'd a shallop to tell Lady Amaranth you're here. _Rover._ You havn't? _John._ I have. _Rover._ Now, who the devil's Lady Amaranth? _John._ I expect her chariot every moment, and when it comes, you'll get into it, and I'll get into it, and I'll set you down genteely at her house; then I'll have obeyed my orders, and I hope your father will be satisfied. _Rover._ My father! who's he pray? _John._ Pshaw! leave off your fun, and prepare to ask his pardon. _Rover._ Ha, ha, ha! Why, my worthy friend, you are totally wrong in this affair. Upon my word I'm not the person you take me for. [_Going._] _John._ You don't go, though they've got your name down in the stage coach book, Mr. Thunder. _Rover._ Mr. Thunder! stage coach book! [_Pauses._] ha, ha, ha! This must be some curious blunder. _John._ Oh! my lad, your father, Sir George, will change your note. _Rover._ He must give me one first. Sir George! then my father is a knight, it seems; ha, ha, ha! very good, faith! 'pon my honour, I am not the gentleman that you think me. _John._ I ought not to think you any gentleman for giving your honour in a falsehood. Oh! them play actors you went amongst have quite spoiled you. I wish only one of 'em would come in my way. I'd teach 'em to bring a gentleman's son tramboozing about the country. _Enter_ WAITER. _Waiter._ Her ladyship's chariot's at the door, and I fancy it's you, sir, the coachman wants. _John._ Yes, it's me. I attend your honour. _Rover._ Then you insist on it that I am-- _John._ I insist on nothing, only you shall come. _Rover._ Indeed! Shall! Shall is a word don't sound over agreeable to my ears. _John._ Does a pretty girl sound well to your ear? _Rover._ "More music in the clink of her horses' hoofs than twenty hautboys." Why, is this Lady Thing-o-me pretty? _John._ Beautiful as a mermaid, and stately as a ship under sail. _Rover._ Egad! I've a mind to humour the frolic--Well, well, I'll see your mermaid. But then on the instant of my appearance the mistake must be discovered. [_Aside._] Harkye, is this father of mine you talk of at this lady's? _John._ No: your father's in chase of the deserters. I find he's afraid to face the old one, so, if I tell him, he won't go with me. [_Aside._] No, no, we shan't see him in a hurry. _Rover._ Then I'll venture. Has the lady ever seen me? _John._ Psha! none of your jokes, man; you know, that her ladyship, no more than myself, has set eyes upon you since you was the bigness of a rumbo canakin. _Rover._ The choice is made. I have my Ranger's dress in my trunk: "Cousin of Buckingham, thou sage grave man!" _John._ What? _Rover._ "Since you will buckle fortune on my back, to bear her burden, whether I will or no, I must have patience to endure the load; but if black scandal, or foul faced"---- _John._ Black! my foul face was as fair as yours before I went to sea.