Gar. Delicious! and that will secure your whole, madam; by no means. And yet, madam, you talk. fortune to yourself. Well, who could have thought of force; there is nothing I would avoid so much as so innocent a face could cover so much cuteness? compulsion in a thing of this kind. No, madam, I Miss R. Why, girl, I only oppose my prudence will still be generous, and leave you at liberty to to their cunning, and practise a lesson they have refuse. taught me against themselves. Gar. Then you're likely not long to want employment, for here they come. Enter CROAKER and LEONTINE. Leon. Excuse me, sir, if I seem to hesitate upon the point of putting the lady so important a question. Croak. Lord, good sir! moderate your fears; I tell you we must have the half or the whole. Come, let me see with what spirit you begin. Well, why don't you? Eh! what? Well, then, I must it seems: Miss Richland, my dear, I believe you guess at our business; an affair which nearly concerns your happiness, as well as my son's. Miss R. I should be ungrateful not to be pleased with anything that comes recommended by you. Croak. How, boy! could you desire a finer opening? Why don't you begin, I say? (To Leontine.) Leon. "Tis true, madam, my father, madam, has some intentions-hem-of explaining an affairwhich-himself can best explain, madam. Croak. Yes, my dear, it comes entirely from my son; it's all a request of his own, madam. Leon. The whole affair is only this, madam; my father has a proposal to make, which he insists none but himself shall deliver. Croak. In short, madam, you see before you one that loves you; one whose whole happiness is all in you. Miss R. I never had any doubts of your regard, sir; and I hope you can have none of my duty. Croak. That's not the thing, my little sweeting; my love! No. no; there he stands, madam; his very looks declare the force of his passion. Call up a look, you dog! (To Leon.) But, then, had you seen him, as I have, weeping, speaking soliloquies and blank verse, sometimes melancholy, and sometimes absent Miss R. I fear, sir, he's absent now; or such a declaration would have come most properly from himself. Croak. Himself, madam! he would die before he could make such a confession. Miss R. I must grant, sir, that a silent address is the genuine eloquence of sincerity. Croak. Madam, he has forgot to speak any other language; silence is become his mother tongue. Miss R. And it must be confessed, sir, it speaks very powerfully in his favour. And yet, I shall be thought too forward in making such a confession; sha'n't I, Mr. Leontine? Leon. Confusion! my reserve will undo ine. But, if modesty attracts her, impudence may disgust her. I'll try. (Aside.) Don't imagine, from my silence, madam, that I want a due sense of the honour and happiness intended me. My father, madam, tells me, your humble servant is not totally indifferent to you; he admires you, I adore yon; and when we come together, upon my soul, I believe we shall be the happiest couple in all St. James's. Miss R. If I could flatter myself you thought as you speak, sir Leon. Doubt my sincerity, madam? By your dear self I swear. Ask the brave if they desire glory; ask cowards if they covet safety Croak. Well, well, no more questions about it. Leon. Ask the sick if they long for health; ask misers if they love money; ask Croak. Ask a fool if he can talk nonsense! What signifies asking, when there's not a soul to give you an answer? If you would ask to the purpose, ask this lady's consent to make you happy. Miss R. Why, indeed, sir, his uncommon ardour almost compels me, forces me to comply. And yet I am afraid he'll despise a conquest gained with too much ease; won't you, Mr. Leontine? Leon. Confusion! (Aside.) O, by no means, Croak. But I tell you, sir, the lady is not at liberty. It's a match. You see she says nothing: silence gives consent. [inclinations. Leon. Consider, sir, the cruelty of constraining her Croak. But I say there's no cruelty. Don't you know, blockhead, that girls have always a roundabout way of saying yes before company? So get you gone both together into the next room; and hang him that interrupts the tender explanation. Get you gone, I say; I'll not hear a word. Leon. But, sir, I inust beg leave to insistCroak. Get off, you puppy, or I'll beg leave to insist upon knocking you down. Stupid whelp! But I don't wonder; the boy takes entirely after his mother. [Exeunt Miss Richland and Leontine. Enter MRS. CROAKER. Mrs. C. Mr. Croaker, I bring you something, my dear, that I believe will make you smile. Croak. I'll hold you a guinea of that, my dear. Mrs. C. A letter; and, as I knew the hand, I ventured to open it. Croak. And how can you expect your breaking open my letters should give me pleasure? Mrs. C. Pho! it's from your sister at Lyons, and contains good news: read it. Croak. What a Frenchified cover is here! That sister of mine has some good qualities, but I could never teach her to fold a letter. [tains. Mrs. C. Fold a fiddlestick. Read what it conCroak. (Reads.) "Dear Nick-An English gentleman, of large fortune, has for some time made private, though honourable, proposals to your daughter Olivia. They love each other tenderly; and I find she has consented, without letting any of the family know, to crown his addresses. As such good offers don't come every day, your own good sense, his large fortune, and family considerations, will induce you to forgive her. Your's ever, RACHEL CROAKER." My daughter Olivia privately contracted to a man of large fortune! This is good news, indeed: my heart never foretold me of this. And yet, how slyly the little baggage has carried it on since she came home! Not a word on't to the old ones for the world. Yet I thought I saw something she wanted to conceal. Mrs. C. Well, if they have concealed their amour, they sha'n't conceal their wedding; that shall be public, I am resolved. Crouk. I tell thee, woman, the wedding is the most foolish part of the ceremony. Mrs. C. But, come, tell me, my dear, don't you owe more to me than you care to confess? Would you have ever been known to Mr. Lofty, who has undertaken Miss Richland's claim at the Treasury, but for me? Who was it first made him an acquaintance at Lady Shabbaroon's rout? Who got him to promise us his interest? Is not he a backstairs favourite; one that can do what he pleases with those that do what they please? Isn't he an acquaintance that all your groaning and lamentations could never have got us? Croak. He is a man of importance, I grant you. And yet, what amazes me is, that while he is giving away places to all the world, he can't get one for himself. Mrs. C. That, perhaps, may be owing to his nicety. Great men are not easily satisfied. Enter a French Servant. Serv. An expresse from Monsieur Lofty. He vil be vait upon your honours instrammant. He be only giving four five instruction, read two tree memorial, call upon von ambassadeur. He vil be vid you in one tree minutes. Mrs. C. You see now, my dear. What an extensive department! Well, friend, let your master know, that we are extremely honoured by this honour. [Exit French Serv.] Was there anything ever in a higher style of breeding? All messages among the great are now done by express. Croak. To be sure, no man does little things with more solemnity, or claims more respect than he; but he's in the right on't. In our bad world, respect is given where respect is claimed. Mrs. C. Never mind the world, my dear; you were never in a pleasanter place in your life. Let us now think of receiving him with proper respect; (a loud rapping at the door) and there he is, by the thundering rap. Croak. Av, verily, there he is; as close upon the heels of his own express, as an indorsement upon the back of a bill. Well, I'll leave you to receive him, whilst I go to chide my little Olivia for intending to steal a marriage without mine or her aunt's [Exit. consent. Enter LOFTY, speaking to his Servant. Lofty. And if the Venetian ambassador, or that teasing creature, the marquis, should call, I am not at home. D-me, I'll be pack-horse to none of them. My dear madam, I have just snatched a moment-and if the expresses to his grace be ready, let them be sent off; they're of importance. Madam, I ask a thousand pardons. Mrs. C. Sir, this honour Lofty. And, Dubardieu, if the person calls about the commission, let him know that it is made out. As for Lord Cumbercourt's stale request, it can keep cold; you understand me. Madam, I ask ten thousand pardons. Mrs. C. Sir, this honour Lofty. And, Dubardieu, if the man comes from the Cornish borough, you must do him; you must do him, I say. Madam, I ask you ten thousand pardons and if the Russian ambassador calls-but he will scarce call to day, I believe. And now, madam, I have just got time to express my happiness, in having the honour of being permitted to profess myself your most obedient humble servant. Mrs. C. Sir, the happiness and honour are all mine; and yet, I am only robbing the public while I detain you. Lofty. Sink the public, madam, when the fair are to be attended. Ab! could all my hours be so charmingly devoted! Thus it is eternally: solicited for places here; teased for pensions there; and courted everywhere. I know you pity me. Mrs. C. Excuse me, sir. "Toils of empires, pleasures are," as Waller says legs, by the Lord, he's prodigious! he scouts them; and yet all men have their faults: too much modesty is his," says his grace. Mrs. C. And yet, I dare say, you don't want assurance when you come to solicit for your friends. Lofty. O, there, indeed, I'm in bronze! Apropos, I have just been mentioning Miss Richland's case to a certain personage; we must name no names. When I ask, I am not to be put off, madam. No, no; I take my friend by the button: a fine girl, sir; great justice in her case. A friend of mine. Borough interest. Business must be done, Mr. Secretary. I say, Mr. Secretary, her business must be done, sir. That's my way, madam. Mrs. C. Bless me! you said all this to the secretary-of-state, did you? Lofty. I did not say the secretary, did I? Well, curse it! since you have found me out, I will not deny it: it was to the secretary. Mrs. C. This was going to the fountain-head at once; not applying to the understrappers, as Mr. Honeywood would have had us. Lofty. Honeywood! he, he! He was, indeed, & fine solicitor. I suppose you have heard what has just happened to him? Mrs, C. Poor, dear man! no accident, I hope. Lofty. Undone, madam, that's all. His creditors have taken him into custody. A prisoner in his own house. Mrs. C. A prisoner in his own house? How! I am quite unhappy for him. Lofty. Why, so am I. The man, to be sure, was immensely good-natured; but, then, I could never find that he had anything in him. Mrs. C. His manner, to be sure, was excessive harmless; some, indeed, thought it a little dull: for my part, I always concealed my opinion. Lofty. It can't be concealed, madam, the man was dull; dull as the last new comedy. A poor, impracticable creature! I tried once or twice to know if he was fit for business; but he had scarce talents to be groom-porter to an orange-barrow. Mrs. C. How differently does Miss Richland think of him! for, I believe, with all his faults, she loves him. Lofty. Loves him! Does she? You should care her of that, by all means. Let me see: what if she were sent to him this instant, in his present doleful situation? My life for it, that works her cure. Distress is a perfect antidote to love. Suppose we join her in the next room? Miss Richland is a fine girl, has a fine fortune, and must not be thrown away. Upon my honour, madam, I have a regard for Miss Richland; and, rather than she should be thrown away, I should think it no indignity to marry her myself. [Exeunt. Lofty. Waller, Waller! is he of the house? Mrs. C. The modern poet of that name, sir. Lofty. Oh, a modern! we men of business despise the moderns; and as for the ancients, we have no time to read them. Poetry is a pretty thing enough for our wives and daughters; but not for us. Why, now, here I stand, that know nothing of books. I Re-enter LEONTINE, with OLIVIA. say, madam, I know nothing of books; and yet, I Leon. And yet trust me, Olivia, I had every believe, upon a land-carriage fishery, a stamp act, reason to expect Miss Richland's refusal, as I did or a jaghire, I can talk my two hours without feel-everything in my power to deserve it. Her indeing the want of them. licacy surprises me. Mrs. C. The world is no stranger to Mr. Lofty's eminence in every capacity. Lofty. I am nothing, nothing, nothing in the world; a mere obscure gentleman. To be sure, indeed, one or two of the present ministers are pleased to represent me as a formidable man. I know they are pleased to bespatter me at all their little dirty levees; yet, upon my soul, I wonder what they see in me to treat me so! Measures, not men, have always been my mark; and I vow, by all that's honourable, my resentment has never done the men, as mere men, any manner of harm; that is, as mere men. [desty. Mrs. C. What importance! and, yet, what moLofty. Oh! if you talk of modesty, madam, there I own I am accessible to praise: modesty is my foible. It was so the Duke of Brentford used to say of me: "I love Jack Lofty," he used to say; "no man has a finer knowledge of things; quite a man of information; and when he speaks upon his Oli. Sure, Leontine, there is nothing so indelicate in being sensible of your merit. If so, I fear I shall be the most guilty thing alive. Leon. But you mistake, my dear. The same attention I used to advance my merit with you, , I practised to lessen it with her. Oli. We have both dissembled too long! I have always been ashamed; I am now quite weary of it. Sure I could never have undergone so much for any other but you. [your compliance. Leon. And you shall find my gratitude equal to Oli. Then why should we defer our scheme of humble happiness, when it is now in our power? I may be the favourite of your father, it is true; but can it ever be thought that his present kindness to a supposed child will continue to a known deceiver. Leon. As his attachments are but few, they are lasting. His own marriage was a private one, as ours may be. Besides, I have sounded him already (Kneels.) Thus, sir, let me speak my gratitude for this unmerited forgiveness. Yes, sir, this even exceeds all your former tenderness: I now can boast the most indulgent of fathers. The life he gave, compared to this, was but a trifling blessing. at a distance, and find all his answers exactly to Oli. You had equal expectations, Leontine, from your last scheme with Miss Richland, which you find has succeeded most wretchedly. Leon. And that's the best reason for trying another. As we could wish, he comes this way. Now, my dearest Olivia, be resolute. I'll just retire within hearing, to come in at a proper time, either to share your danger or confirm your victory. [Exit. Re-enter CROAKER. Croak. Yes, I must forgive her; and yet not too easily, neither. It will be proper to keep up the decorums of resentment a little, if it be only to impress her with an idea of my authority. (Aside.) Oli. How I tremble to approach him! (Aside.) Might I presume, sir? If I interrupt you Croak. No, child, where I have an affection, it is not a little thing can interrupt me. Croak. And, good sir, who sent for you, with that fine tragedy face and flourishing manner? I don't know what we have to do with your gratitude upon this occasion. Leon. How, sir, is it possible to be silent when so much obliged? Would you refuse me the pleasure of being grateful? of adding my thanks to Olivia's? of sharing in the transports that you have thus occasioned? Croak. Lord, sir! we can be happy enongh, without your coming in to make up the party. Leon. But, sir, I that have so large a part in the benefit, is it not my duty to shew my joy? Is the happiness of marrying my Olivia so small a blessing? Croak. Marrying Olivia! marrying Olivia! marrying his own sister! Sure the boy is out of his senses. His own sister! Leon. My sister! [any meaning? Croak. What does the booby mean? or has he Leon. Mean, sir? Why, sir-only when my sister is to be married, that I have the pleasure of marrying her, sir; that is, of giving her away, sir. have made a point of it. Oli. Sir, I am sensible how ill I deserve this partiality; yet, heaven knows! there is nothing II would not do to gain it. Croak. And you have but too well succeeded, you little hussy you. With those endearing ways of your's, on my conscience, I could be brought to forgive anything. Ol. But when you know my guilt-yes, you shall know it, though I feel the greatest pain in the confession. Croak. Why, then, if it be so very great a pain, you may spare yourself the trouble, for I know every syllable of the matter before you begin. Oli. Indeed! Then I'm undone. Croak. Ay, miss, you wanted to steal a match. I'm not worth being consulted, I suppose, when there's to be a marriage in my own family. No, I'm to have no hand in the disposal of my own children; no, I'm nobody. I'm to be a mere article of family lumber; a piece of cracked china, to be stuck up in a corner. Oli. Dear sir, nothing but the dread of your authority could induce us to conceal it from you. Croak. No, no; my consequence is no more; I'm as little minded as a dead Russian in winter, just stuck up, with a pipe in his mouth, till there comes a thaw. Oli. I was prepared, sir, for your anger, and despaired of pardon, even while I presumed to ask it. [Livy. Croak. And yet you should not despair neither, Oli. And do you permit me to hope, sir? Can I ever expect to be forgiven? But hope has too long deceived me. Croak. Why, then, child, it sha'n't deceive you now, for I forgive you this very moment. I forgive you all; and now you are indeed my daughter. Oli. O transport! this kindness overpowers me. Croak. I was always against severity to our children. We have been young and giddy ourselves, and we can't expect boys and girls to be old before their time. Oli. What generosity! But can you forget the many falsehoods, the dissimulation Croak. You did indeed dissemble; but where's the girl that will not dissemble for a husband? My wife and I had never been married, if we had not dissembled a little before hand. Oli. It shall be my future care never to pat such generosity to a second trial. And as for the partner of my offence and folly, from his native honour and the just sense he has of his duty, I can answer for him, that Croak. O, is that all? Give her away. You have made a point of it. Then you had as good make a point of first giving yourself away, as I am going to prepare the writings between you and Miss Richland this very minute. What a fuss is here about nothing! Why, what's the matter now? I thought I had made you at least as happy as you could wish. [mistaken. (Aside.) Oli. O yes, sir, very happy. How have I been Croak. Do you foresee anything, child? You look as if you did. I think if anything was to be foreseen, I have as sharp a look-out as another; and yet I foresee nothing. Oli. What can it mean? [Exit. Leon. He knows something; and yet, for my life, I cannot tell what: but whatever it be I'm resolved to put it out of fortune's power to repeat our mortification. I'll baste and prepare for our journey to Scotland this very evening. My friend Honeywood has promised me his advice and assistance; and I know so much of his honest heart, that if he can't relieve our uneasiness, he will at least share them. [Exeunt. ACT III. SCENE I.-Young Honeywood's House. Enter HONEYWOOD, Bailiff, and Follower. Bail. Look ye, sir, I have arrested as good men as you in my time; no disparagement of you neither. Men that would go forty guineas on a game of cribbage. I challenge the town to shew a man in more genteeler practice than myself. Honey. Without all question, Mr. get your name, sir. I for Bail. How can you forget what you never knew? Honey. Then pray, sir, what is your name, sir? Honey. You may have a reason for keeping it a Bail. The law does nothing without reason. I'm ashamed to tell my name to no man, sir. If you can shew cause, as why upon a special capus, that I prove my name,-But come, Timothy Twitch is my name. And now you know my name, what have you to say to that? Honey. Nothing in the world, good Mr. Twitch, but that I have a favour to ask, that's all. Bail. Ay, favours are more easily asked than granted, as we say among us that practice the law. I have taken an oath against granting favours. Leon. Permit him thus to answer for himself. Would yon have me perjure myself? Re-enter LEONTINE. Honey. But my request will come recommended in so strong a manner, as, I believe, you'll have no scruple. (Pulls out his purse.) The thing is only this: I believe I shall be able to discharge this trifle in two or three days at furthest ; but as I would not have the affair known for the world, I have thoughts of keeping you and your good friend here about me till the debt is discharged; for which I shall be properly grateful. Bail. Oh! that's another maxum, and altogether within my oath. For certain, if an honest man is to get anything by a thing, there's no reason why all things should not be done in civility. Honey. Doubtless, all trades must live, Mr. Twitch; and your's is a necessary one. (Gives him money.) Bail. Oh! your honour; I hope your honour takes nothing amiss, as does, as I does nothing | but my duty in so doing. I'm sure no man can say I ever give a gentleman, that was a gentleman, ill usage. If I saw that a gentleman was a gentleman, I have taken money not to see him for ten weeks together. [humanityHoney. Tenderness is a virtue, Mr. Twitch, and Bail. Humanity, sir, is a jewel; it's better than gold. I love humanity. People may say, that we, in our way, have no humanity; but I'll shew you my humanity this moment. There's my folLower here, little Flanigan, with a wife and four children; a guinea or two would be more to him than twice as much to another. Now, as I can't shew him any humanity myself, I must beg leave you'll do it for me. Honey. I assure you, Mr. Twitch, your's is a most powerful recommendation. (Gives money to the Follower.) Bail. Sir, you're a gentleman : I see you know what to do with your money. Bat to business: we are to be with you here as your friends, I suppose; but set in case company comes. Little Flanigan here, to be sure, has a good face, a very good face; but then he is a little seedy, as we say among us that practice the law. Not well in clothes. Smoke the pocket-holes. Honey. Well, that shall be remedied without Enter a Servant. [delay. Serv. Sir, Miss Richland is below. Honey. How unlucky. Detain her a moment. We must improve, my good friend, little Mr. Fla- | nigan's appearance first. Here, let Mr. Flanigan have a suit of my clothes; quick-the brown and silver. Do you hear? Serv. That your honour gave away to the begging gentleman that makes verses, because it was as good as new. Honey. The white and gold, then. Serv. That, your honour, I made bold to sell, because it was good for nothing. Honey. Well, the first that comes to hand, then : the blue and gold. I believe Mr. Flanigan will look best in blue. [Exeunt Servant and Follower. Bail. Rabbit me, but little Flanigan will look well in anything. There's not a prettier scout in the four counties after a shy-cock than he scents like a hound; sticks like a weazle. He was master of the ceremonies to the black queen of Morocco when I took him to follow me. Re-enter Follower. Eh ! ecod, I think he looks so well, that I don't care if I have a suit from the same place myself. Honey. Well, well, I hear the lady coming. Dear Mr. Twitch, I beg you'll give your friend directions not to speak. As for yourself, I know you will say nothing without being directed. Bail, Never you fear me; I'll shew the lady that I have something to say for myself as well as another. One man has one way of talking, and another man has another; that's all the difference between them. Enter MISS RICHLAND and Maid. Miss R. You'll be surprised, sir, at this visit; | but you know I am yet to thank you for choosing my little library. Honey. Thanks, madam, are unnecessary, as it was I that was obliged by your commands. Chairs here. Two of my good friends, Mr. Twitch and Mr. Flanigan. Sit, gentlemen, without ceremony. Miss R. Who can these odd-looking men be? I fear it is as I was informed. It must be so. (Aside.) Bail. (After a pause.) Pretty weather, very pretty weather for the time of the year. Fol. Very good circuit weather in the country. Honey. You officers are generally favourites among the ladies. My friends, madam, have been upon very disagreeable duty, I assure you. The fair should, in some measure, recompense the toils of the brave. Miss R. Our officers do indeed deserve every favour. The gentlemen are in the marine service, I presume, sir? Honey. Why, madam, they do-occasionally serve in the Fleet, madam: a dangerous service." Miss R. I am told so; and I own it has often surprised me, that while we have had so many instances of bravery there, we have had so few of wit at home to praise it. Honey. I grant, madam, that our poets have not written as our soldiers have fought; but they have done all they could. Miss R. I am quite displeased when I see a fine subject spoiled by a dull writer. Honey. We should not be so severe against dull writers, madam; it is ten to one but the dullest writer exceeds the most rigid French critic who presumes to despise him. Fol. D- the French, and all that belongs to them. Miss R. Sir! Honey. Ha, ha, ha! honest Mr. Flanigan. A trae English officer, madam; he's not contented with beating the French, but he will scold them, too. Miss R. Yet, Mr. Honeywood, this does not convince me but that severity in criticism is necessary: it was our first adopting the severity of French taste, that has brought them in turn to taste as. Bail. Taste us! by the Lord, madam, they devour us. Give monseers but a taste, and I'll be d-d but they come in for a bellyful. Miss R. Very extraordinary this. Fol. But very true. What makes the bread rising ? the parle vous that devour us. What makes the mutton ten-pence a pound? the parle vous that eat it up. What makes the beer threepence halfpenny a pot? Honey. Ab, the vulgar rogues! all will be out. (Aside.) Right, gentlemen; very right, upon my word, and quite to the purpose. They draw a parallel, madam, between the mental taste and that of our senses. We are injured as much by French severity in one, as by French capacity in the other. That is their meaning. Miss R. Though I do not see the force of the parallel, yet I'll own that we should sometimes pardon books, as we do our friends, that have now and then agreeable absurdities to recommend them. Bail. That's all my eye; the king can only pardon, as the law says: for set in case Honey. I am quite of your opinion, sir: I see the whole drift of your argument. Yes, certainly, our presuming to pardon any work, is arrogating a power that belongs to another, If all have power to condemn, what writer can be free? Bail. By his habus corpus. His habus corpus can set him free at any time: for set in case Honey. I am obliged to you, sir, for the hint. If, madam, as my friend observes, our laws are so careful of a gentleman's person, sare we ought to be equally careful of his dearer part, his fame. Fol. Ay, but if so be a man's nabb'd, you knowHoney. Mr. Flanigan, if you spoke for ever, you could not improve the last observation. For my own part, I think it conclusive. Bail. As to the matter of that, may hap Honey. My dear Mr. Twitch, I discern what you would be at perfectly; I believe the lady must be sensible of the art with which it is introduced. I suppose you perceive the meaning, madam, of his course of law? Miss R. I protest, sir, I do not. I perceive only that you answer one gentleman before he has finished, and the other before he has well begun. Bail. Madam, this here question is about severity, and justice, and pardon, and the like of they. Now to explain the thing Honey. O curse your explanations. (Aside.) Re-enter a Servant. Serv. Mr. Leontine, sir, below, desires to speak with you upon earnest business. [Exit. Honey. That's lucky. (Aside.) Dear madam, you'll excuse me, and my good friends here, for a few minutes. There are books, madam, to amuse you. Come, gentlemen, you know I make no ceremony with such friends. After you, sir. Excuse me. Well, if I must; but I know your natural politeness. Bail. Before and behind, you know. Fol. Ay, ay, before and behind; before and behind. [Exeunt Honeywood, Bailiff, and Follower. Miss R. What can all this mean, Garnet? Gar. Mean, madam! why, what should it mean, but what Mr. Lofty sent you here to see? These people he calls officers, are officers sure enough sheriff's officers. : Miss R. Ay, it is certainly so. Well, though his perplexities are far from giving me pleasure, yet, I own, there's something very ridiculous in them, and a just punishment for his dissimulation. Gar. And so they are. But I wonder, madam, that the lawyer you just employed to pay his debts, and set him free, has not done it by this time: he ought at least to have been here before now. Enter SIR WILLIAM HONEYWOOD. Sir W. For Miss Richland to undertake setting him free, I own, was quite unexpected; it has totally unhinged my schemes to reclaim him. Yet, it gives me great pleasure to find, that, among a number of worthless friendships, he has made one acquisition of real value; for there must be some softer passion on her side that prompts this generosity. Ha! here before me! I'll endeavour to sound her affections. (Aside.) Madam, as I am the person that have had some demands upon the gentleman of this house, I hope you'll excuse me, if, before I enlarged him, I wanted to see yourself. Miss R. The precaution was very unnecessary, sir. I suppose your wants were only such as my agent had power to satisfy. Sir W. Partly, madam; but I was also willing you should be fully apprized of the character of the gentleman you intended to serve. Miss R. It must come, sir, with a very ill grace from you. To censure it, after what you have done, would look like malice; and to speak favourably of a character you have oppressed, would be impeaching your own. And sure his tenderness, his humanity, his universal friendship, may attone for many faults. Sir W. That friendship, madam, which is exerted in too wide a sphere, becomes totally useless our bounty, like a drop of water, disappears when diffused too widely. They who pretend most to this universal benevolence, are either deceivers, or dupes; men who desire to cover their private ill nature, by a pretended regard for all; or men who, reasoning themselves into false feel Miss R. I am surprised, sir, to hear one who has probably been a gainer by the folly of others, 80 severe in his censure of it. Sir W. Whatever I may have gained by folly, madam, you see I am willing to prevent your losing by it. Miss R. Your cares for me, sir, are unnecssary. I always suspected those services which are denied where they are wanted; and offered, perhaps, in hopes of a refusal. No, sir, my directions have been given, and I insist upon their being complied with. Sir W. Thou amiable woman! I can no longer contain the expressions of my gratitude-my pleasure. You see before you one who has been equally careful of his interest: one who has for some time been a concealed spectator of his follies; and only punished, in hopes to reclaim them-his uncle. Miss R. Sir William Honeywood! You amaze me. How shall I conceal my confusion? (Aside.) I fear, sir, you'll think I have been too forward in my services. I confess I Sir W. Do not make any apologies, madam: I only find myself unable to repay the obligation. And yet, I have been trying my interest of late to serve you. Having learned, madam, that you had some demands upon government, I have, though unasked, been your solicitor there. Miss R. Sir, I am infinitely obliged to your intentions; but my guardian has employed another gentleman, who assures him of success. Sir W. Who? the important little man that visits here? Trust me, madam, he's quite contemptible among men in power, and utterly unable to serve you. Mr. Lofty's promises are much better known to people of fashion than his person, I [as can be, here he comes. assure you. Miss R. How have we been deceived! As sure Sir W. Does he? Remember I am to continue nnknown: my return to England has not as yet been made public. With what impudence he enters! Enter LOFTY. Lofty. Let the chariot-let my chariot drive off'; I'll visit to his grace's in a chair. Miss Richland here before me! Punctual, as usual, to the calls of humanity. I am very sorry, madam, things of this kind should happen, especially to a man I have shewn every where, and carried amongst us as a particular acquaintance. Miss R. I find, sir, you have the art of making the misfortunes of others your own. Let Lofty. My dear madam, what can a private man like me do? one man can't do everything: and then, I do so much in this way every day. me see something considerable might be done for him by subscription: it could not fail if I carried the list. I'll undertake to set down a brace of dukes, two dozen lords, and half the lower house, at my own peril. Sir W. And after all, it is more than probable, sir, he might reject the offer of such powerful patronage. Lofty. Then, madam, what can we do? You know, I never make promises. In truth, I once or twice tried to do something with him in the way of business; but, as I often told his uncle, Sir William Honeywood, the man was utterly impracticable. Sir W. His uncle! Then that gentleman, I suppose, is a particular friend of your's? Lofty. Meaning me, sir? Yes, madam, as I often said, "My dear Sir William, you are sensible I would do anything, as far as my poor interest goes, to serve your family;" but what can be done? there's no procuring first-rate places for ninth-rate abilities Miss R. I have heard of Sir William Honeywood; he's abroad in employment; he confided in your judgment, I suppose. |