Lord BELMOUR and Lord WESTON.

Lord BELMOUR. Well, nephew, have you yet consider'd better
Of your love-frolick for the merchant's daughter?
You may meet numbers through this spacious city
With wealth superior far to her possessions;
Nor need you languish for their hearts a moment.

Lord WESTON. The common light shines not more unreserv'd;
Their very charms fatigue the public eye.
But, sir, my spirit scorns an easy conquest.

Lord BELMOUR. Fine founding words, yet answer not my question.
You too much from the world seclude yourself;
Which serves to add fresh fuel to the flame.
Long have I been, as I may say, your parent,
And have at present in my thoughts for you,
A wife well suited to your rank and fortune.

Lord WESTON. Thanks, my good lord! I doubt not your kind wishes;
But here, where all life's happiness depends,
Permit me to determine for myself.
True joys dwell only with united hearts,
And solitude is far the wiser choice
Than wedlock where domestic bliss is absent.
How vain is then the hope of such delights
With those of Fashion's stamp, whose only merit,
Is, that they are of this all-conqu'ring sex,
Of ev'ry other excellence regardless?