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68 Lord Ogle. I never was in ſuch exquiſite enchanting company ſince my heart firſt conceived, or my ſenſes taſted pleaſure.

Lovew. Where are they, my Lord?

Lord Ogle. In my mind, Sir.

Lovew. What company have you there, my Lord?

Lord Ogle. My own ideas, Sir, which ſo croud upon my imagination, and kindle it to ſuch a delirium of extaſy, that wit, wine, muſick, poetry, all combined, and each perfection, are but mere mortal ſhadows of my felicity.

Lovew. I ſee that your Lordſhip is happy, and I rejoice at it.

Lord Ogle. You ſhall rejoice at it, Sir; my felicity ſhall not ſelfiſhly be confined, but ſhall ſpread its influence to the whole circle of my friends. I need not ſay, Lovewell, that you ſhall have your ſhare of it.

Lovew. Shall I, my Lord?—then I underſtand you—you have heard—Miſs Fanny has inform'd you—

Lord Ogle. She has—I have heard, and ſhe ſhall be happy—'tis determin'd.

Lovew. Then I have reached the ſummit of my wiſhes—And will your Lordſhip pardon the folly?

Lord Ogle. O yes, poor creature, how could ſhe help it?—'Twas unavoidable—Fate and neceſſity.

Lovew. It was indeed, my Lord—Your kindneſs diſtracts me.

Lord Ogle. And ſo it did the poor girl, faith.

Lovew. She trembled to diſcloſe the ſecret, and declare her affections?

Lord Ogle. The world, I believe, will not think her affections ill placed.

Lovew.—[bowing.]—You are too good, my Lord.—And do you really excuſe the raſhneſs of the action?

Lord Ogle. From my very ſoul, Lovewell.

Lovew. Your generoſity overpowers me.—[bowing.]—I was afraid of her meeting with a cold reception. Lord