CHAPTER XLV.
I inquire for my Uncle, and understand he is gone to sea--take Lodgings at Charing Cross--go to the Play, where I meet with an adventure--Dine at an ordinary--the Guests described--become acquainted with Medlar and Doctor Wagtail As soon as we alighted at the inn, I dispatched Strap to inquire for my uncle at the Union Flag in Wapping; and he returned in a little time, with an account of Mr.Bowling's having gone to sea, mate of a merchant ship, after a long and unsuccessful application attendance at the Admiralty; where, it seems, the interest he depended upon was not sufficient to reinstate him, or recover the pay that was due to him when he quitted the Thunder.
Next day I hired very handsome lodgings not far from Charing Cross; and in the evening dressed myself in a plain suit of the true Paris cut, and appeared in a front box at the play, where I saw a good deal of company, and was vain enough to believe that I was observed with an uncommon degree of attention and applause.

This silly conceit intoxicated me so much, that I was guilty of a thousand ridiculous coquetries; and I dare say, how favourable soever the thoughts of the company might be at my first appearance, they were soon changed by my absurd behaviour into pity or contempt.

I rose and sat down, covered and uncovered my head twenty times between the acts; pulled out my watch, clapped it to my ear, wound it up, set it, gave it the hearing again; displayed my snuff-box, affected to take snuff, that I might have all opportunity of showing my brilliant, and wiped my nose with perfumed handkerchief; then dangled my cane, and adjusted my sword-knot, and acted many more fooleries of the same kind, in hopes of obtaining the character of a pretty fellow, in the acquiring of which I found two considerable obstructions in my disposition--namely, a natural reserve and jealous sensibility.

Fain would I have entered into conversation with the people around me: but I was restrained by the fear of being censured for my assurance, as well as by reflecting that I was more entitled to a compliment of this kind from them, than they to such condescension from a stranger like me.

How often did I redden at the frequent whispers and loud laughter of my fellow beaux, which I imagined were excited by me; and how often did I envy the happy indifference of those choice spirits, who behold the distress of the scene without discovering the least symptom of approbation or concern.