_Money_. Yes, sir, dispose of myself. 'Tis very well known that I have had very good offers since my last dear husband died. I might have had an attorney of New Inn, or Mr Fillpot, the exciseman; yes, I had my choice of two parsons, or a doctor of physick; and yet I slighted them all; yes, I slighted them for--for--for you.

_Luck_. For me?

_Money_. Yes, you have seen too visible marks of my passion; too visible for my reputation. [_Sobbing_.

_Luck_. I have heard very loud tokens of your passion; but I rather took it for the passion of anger than of love.

_Money_. Oh! it was love, indeed. Nothing but love, upon my soul!

_Luck_. The devil! This way of dunning is worse than the other.

_Money_. If thou can'st not pay me in money, let me have it in love. If I break through the modesty of my sex let my passion excuse it. I know the world will call it an impudent action; but if you will let me reserve all I have to myself, I will make myself yours for ever.

_Luck_. Toll, loll, loll!

_Money_. And is this the manner you receive my declaration, you poor beggarly fellow? You shall repent this; remember, you shall repent it; remember that. I'll shew you the revenge of an injured woman.

_Luck_. I shall never repent anything that rids me of you, I am sure.

SCENE III.--LUCKLESS, HARRIOT.

_Luck_. Dear Harriot!

_Har_. I have waited an opportunity to return to you.

_Luck_. Oh! my dear, I am so sick!

_Har_. What's the matter?

_Luck_. Oh! your mother! your mother!

_Har_. What, has she been scolding ever since?

_Luck_. Worse, worse!

_Har_. Heaven forbid she should threaten to go to law with you.

_Luck_. Oh, worse! worse! she threatens to go to church with me. She has made me a generous offer, that if I will but marry her she will suffer me to settle all she has upon her.

_Har_. Generous creature! Sure you will not resist the proposal?

_Luck_. Hum! what would you advise me to?

_Har_. Oh, take her, take her, by all means; you will be the prettiest, finest, loveliest, sweetest couple. Augh! what a delicate dish of matrimony you will make! Her age with your youth, her avarice with your extravagance, and her scolding with your poetry.

_Luck_. Nay, but I am serious, and I desire you would be so. You know my unhappy circumstances, and your mother's wealth. It would be at least a prudent match.

_Har_. Oh! extremely prudent, ha, ha, ha! the world will say, Lard! who could have thought Mr Luckless had had so much prudence? This one action will overbalance all the follies of your life.