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SCENE I.—The House of. He enters, with a letter in his hand, leaning on. Sits down in an easy chair, and sets about arranging books and papers on a table at the bottom of the Stage.

Let me again consider the request of this gay Baronet. (Muttering as he reads.) Disinterested attachment—only requests to be allowed to endeavour to gain her good opinion.—Yes, yes! the plea and pretensions of them all. The days of our life wear on, and every pleasant solace, after it has lulled and cheered us for a season, drops away.—I would rather have parted with her to William Clermont; but what course of events is ever fulfilled according to the foresight of our imagination? (Speaking in a louder voice, vehemently.) None! no, none!

What is your pleasure, Sir?

A thing which I never get, Paterson.