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force, the brilliancy of the dear, delightful oration.

LORD WORRYMORE.

Now, my dear good cousin, are you serious?

LADY SHREWDLY.

Serious or not, I can think of nothing so likely to serve your ends, under the present untoward circumstances. But somebody is coming.

Enter Blount.

O, 'tis a gay young sailor returned from a three years' station in the Mediterranean.—You're welcome, dear Frank! let me see you as often as you can while you remain in town; it always gives me pleasure. Permit me to present Mr. Francis Blount to your Lordship: the son of an old friend and schoolfellow of mine.

LORD WORRYMORE.

I am glad to have the honour of meeting any friend of yours; and hope he has returned safe and sound from the sabres of the Greek pirates.

BLOUNT.

I boast of no honourable scars as yet, my Lord.

LORD WORRYMORE.

All in good time, young gentleman.