Bev. Jun. I say, sir, experience has made you wiser in your care of me; for, sir, since you lost my dear mother, your time has been so heavy, so lonely, and so tasteless, that you are so good as to guard me against the like unhappiness, by marrying me prudentially by way of bargain and sale. For, as you well judge, a woman that is espoused for a fortune, is yet a better bargain if she dies; for then a man still enjoys what he did marry, the money, and is disencumbered of what he did not marry, the woman.
Sir J. Bev. But pray, sir, do you think Lucinda, then, a woman of such little merit?
Bev. Jun. Pardon me, sir, I don't carry it so far neither; I am rather afraid I shall like her too well; she has, for one of her fortune, a great many needless and superfluous good qualities.
Sir J. Bev. I am afraid, son, there's something I don't see yet, something that's smothered under all this raillery.
Bev. Jun. Not in the least, sir. If the lady is dressed and ready, you see I am. I suppose the lawyers are ready too.
Humph. This may grow warm if I don't interpose. [Aside.]—Sir, Mr. Sealand is at the coffee-house, and has sent to speak with you.
Sir J. Bev. Oh! that's well! Then I warrant the lawyers are ready. Son, you'll be in the way, you say.
Bev. Jun. If you please, sir, I'll take a chair, and go to Mr. Sealand's, where the young lady and I will wait your leisure.
Sir J. Bev. By no means. The old fellow will be so vain if he sees——
Bev. Jun. Ay; but the young lady, sir, will think me so indifferent.