Lord Lum.  O!  I will pit them in a moment, Sir Pertinax,—­that will bring them into the heat of the action at once, and save a great deal of awkwardness on both sides.  O! here your dulcinea comes, sir.

    Enter Lady RODOLPHA, singing, a music paper in her hand.

Lady Rod.  I have been learning this air of Constantia:  I protest, her touch on the harpsichord is quite brilliant, and really her voice not amiss.  Weel, Sir Pertinax, I attend your commands, and yours, my paternal lord. [Lady Rod. curtsies very low; my lord bows very low, and answers in the same tone and manner.]

Lord Lum.  Why, then, my filial lady, we are to inform you that the commission for your ladyship and this enamoured cavalier, commanding you to serve your country, jointly and inseparably, in the honourable and forlorn hope of matrimony, is to be signed this very evening.

Lady Rod.  This evening, my lord!

Lord Lum.  This evening, my lady.  Come, Sir Pertinax, let us leave them to settle their liveries, wedding-suits, carriages, and all their amorous equipage, for the nuptial campaign.

Sir Per.  Ha, ha, ha! excellent! excellent! weel, I vow, my lord, you are a great officer:—­this is as guid a manoeuvre to bring on a rapid engagement as the ablest general of them aw could have started.

Lord Lum.  Ay, ay! leave them together; they’ll soon come to a right understanding, I warrant you, or the needle and loadstone have lost their sympathy. [Exit Lord Lum. and Sir Per.

[Lady Rodolpha stands at that side of the Stage, where they went off, in amazement: Egerton is at the opposite side, who, after some anxious emotion, settles into a deep reflection:—­this part of the scene must be managed by a nice whispering tone of self-conversation mutually observed by the Lovers.]

Lady Rod. [Aside.] Why, this is downright tyranny! it has quite dampt my spirits; and my betrothed, yonder, seems planet-struck too, I think.

Eger. [Aside.] A whimsical situation, mine!

Lady Rod. [Aside.] Ha, ha, ha! methinks we look like a couple of cautious generals, that are obliged to take the field, but neither of us seems willing to come till action.

Eger. [Aside.] I protest, I know not how to address her.

Lady Rod. [Aside.] He will nai advance, I see:  what am I to do in this affair? guid traith, I will even do, as I suppose many brave heroes have done before me,—­clap a guid face upon the matter, and so conceal an aching heart under a swaggering countenance. [As she advances, she points at him, and smothers a laugh; but when she speaks to him, the tone must be loud, and rude on the word Sir.] Sir, as we have,—­by the commands of our guid fathers, a business of some little consequence to transact,—­I hope you will excuse my taking the liberty of recommending a chair till you, for the repose of your body—­in the embarrassed deliberation of your perturbed spirits.