ſmiles, and grins, and leers, and ogles, and fills every wrinkle in his old wizen face with comical expreſſions of tenderneſs. I think he wou'd make an admirable ſweetheart.
Enter Sterling.
Sterl. [at entring.] No fiſh?—Why the pond was dragged but yeſterday morning—There's carp and tench in the boat.—Pox on't, if that dog Lovewell had any thought, he wou'd have brought down a turbot, or ſome of the land-carriage mackarel.
Mrs. Heidel. Lord, brother, I am afraid his lordſhip and Sir John will not arrive while it's light.
Sterl. I warrant you.—But, pray, ſiſter Heidelberg, let the turtle be dreſt to-morrow, and ſome veniſon—and let the gardener cut ſome pine-apples—and get out ſome ice.—I'll anſwer for wine, I warrant you—I'll give them ſuch a glaſs of Champagne as they never drank in their lives—no, not at a Duke's table.
Mrs. Heidel. Pray now, brother, mind how you behave. I am always in a fright about you with people of qualaty. Take care that you don't fall aſleep directly after ſupper, as you commonly do. Take a good deal of ſnuff; and that will keep you awake.—And don't burſt out with your horrible loud horſe-laughs. It is monſtrous wulgar.
Sterl. Never fear, ſiſter!—Who have we here?
Mrs. Heidel. It is Monſ. Cantoon, the Swiſh gentleman, that lives with his Lordſhip, I vow and perteſt.
Enter Canton.
Sterl. Ah, Mounſeer! your ſervant.—I am very glad to ſee you, Mounſeer.
Canton. Moſh oblige to Monſ. Sterling.—Ma'am, I am yours—Matemoiſelle, I am yours. [Bowing round.
Mrs. Heidel. Your humble ſervant, Mr. Cantoon!
Canton. I kiſs your hands, Matam!
Sterl. Well, Mounſeer!—and what news of your good family!—when are we to ſee his Lordſhip and Sir John?
