Enter DRONE, R. Drone. My master says how he will wait on you, gentlemen. Digit. What is your name, sir ? Drone. Drone, at your service.

Digit. No, no; you need not drone at my service. A very applicable name, however.

Sesq. Drone? That is derived from the Greek Draon, that is, flying or moving swiftly.

Trill. He seems to move in andante measure, that is, to the tune of Old Hundred.

Drone. Very likely, gentlemen.
Digit. Well, as I came first, I will enter first.

Sesq. Right. You shall be the antecedent, I the subsequent, and Mr, Trill the consequent. Trill. Eight. I was always a man


consequence. Fa, sol, la, Fa, sol, &c. (Eceunt, R., followed by DRONE, who mimics them.)



QUIDNUNC and FEEBLE. Enter FEEBLE, L. He stops, C., feels his pulse, and shakes his head then takes a

val from his pocket, pours a few drops on a lump of sugar, and swallows it. As soon as he hears QUIDNUNCS voice, he starts with disgust towards R. The whole of QUIDNUNC's first speech is uttered off the stage. There should be a chair a little to the right of the center.

Quidrunc. (Without.) Hold your tongue, you foolish fellow! he 'll be glad to see me. Brother Feeble! brother Feeble!

Feeble. (R.) I was just going to bed. Bless my heart, what can this man want? I know his voice. I hope no new misfortune brings him at this hour.

Enter QUIDNUNC, L. Quid. Brother Feeble, I give you joy! the nabob is demolished. Hurra!

Feeb. Lack-a-day, Mr. Quidnunc! How can you serve mo thus ? Quid. Suraja Dowla is no more ! Hurra!

(Crosses the stage to L., then back again to R.)

Feeb. Poor man! he's stark, staring mad.

Quid. Our men diverted themselves with killing their bullocks and their camels, till they dislodged the enemy from the sotagon, and the counterscarp, and the bungalow

Feeb. I'll hear the rest to-morrow morning. O! I 'm ready to die !

Quid. Odds-heart, man, be of good cheer! (Slapping FEEBLE on the back.) The new nabob, Jaffer Alley Cawn, has acceded to a treaty, and the English company got all their rights in the Phiemad and the Fushbulhoornons.

Feeb. But, dear heart, Mr. Quidnunc, why am I to be disturbed for this ?

Qhuid. We had but two seapoys killed, three chokeys, four gaul-walls, and two zemindars. Hurra!

Feeb. Would not to-morrow morning do as well for this?

(ruid. Light up your windows, man! — light up your windows! Chanderna gore is taken! Hurra!

Feeb. Well, well! I 'm glad of it. Good-night. (Going, R.) Quid. Here

here's the “ Gazette." (Produces Newspaper.)

Feeb. O, I shall certainly faint! (Sits down.)

Quid. Ay, ay, sit down, and I'll read it to you. Here it is : “On the 10th the action commenced. Suraja Dowla drew up his men on the right of the bungalow, about” – (FEEBLE rises and moves away, R.) Nay, don't run away: I've more news to tell you. There 's an account from Williamsburgh, in America. The superintendent of Indian affairs

Feeb. Dear sir! dear sir! (Avoiding him.)

Quid. He has settled matters with the Cherokees — (Following him about the stage.)

Feeb. Enough, enough! (Moving away.)

Quid. In the same manner he did before with the Catawbas. (Following him.)

Feeb. Well, well! your servant. (Moving off.)
Quid. So that the white inhabitants - (Following him.)

Feeb. I wish you would let me be a quiet inhabitant of my own house!

Quid. So that the white inhabitants will now be secured by the Cherokees and the Catawbas

Feeb. You had better go home, and think of appearing before the commissioners.

Quid. Go home! No, no! I'll go and talk the matter over at our coffee-house. (Going, L.)

Feeb. Do so, do so!

Quid. (Turning back.) I had a dispute about the balance of power. (Takes chair and sits, C.) Pray, now, can you tell

Feeb. I know nothing of the matter.



i fruid. Well, another time will do for that. (Rises.) I have a great deal to say about that. (Going returns.) Right! I had like to have forgot. There's an erratum in the last “Gazette.”

Feeb. With all my heart!
Quid. Page 3, 1st col., 1st and 3d lines, for bombs read booms.
Feeb. Read what


will! Quid. Nay, but that alters the sense, you know. Well, now, your servant.

If I hear any more news, I 'll come and tell you.
Feeb. For heaven's sake, no more!
Quid. I'll be with before

're out of

your Feeb. Good-night, good-night! (Hurries off, R.)

Quid. (Screaming after him.) I forgot to tell you -- the Emperor of Morocco is dead. So, now I have made him happy, I'll go and call up my friend Razor, and make him happy, too; and then I 'll go and see if any body is up at the coffee-house, and make them all bappy there, too.

(Exit, L.)


first sleep.


Enter DERBY, R., and SCRAPEWELL, L. Derby. Good-morning, neighbor Scrapewell. I have half a dozen miles to ride to-day, and should be extremely obliged to you if you would lend me your gray mare.

Scrapewell. I should be happy, friend Derby, to oblige you ; but I'm under the necessity of going immediately to the mill with three bags of corn. Þły wife wants the meal this very morning

Der. Then she must want it still, for I can assure you the mill does not go to-day. I heard the miller tell Jotham Sleek that the water was too low.

Scrape. You don't say so! That is bad, indeed; for, in that case, I shall be obliged to gallop off to town for the meal. My wife would comb my head for me, if I should neglect it!

Der. I can save you this journey, for I have plenty of meal at home, and will lend your wife as much as she wants.

Scrape. Ah! neighbor Derby, I am sure your meal will never suit my wife. You can't conceive how whimsical she is.

Der. If she were ten times more whimsical than she is, I am certain she would like it; for you sold it to me yourself, and you assured me that it was the best you ever had.

Scrape. Yes, yes, that's true, indeed ; I always have the best of every thing. You know, neighbor Derby, that no one is more ready to oblige a friend than I am; but I must tell you, the mare this morning refused to eat hay; and, truly, I am afraid she will not carry you.

Der. O, never fear; I will feed her well with oats on the road. Scrape. Oats ! neighbor ; oats are very dear.

Der. Never mind that. When I have a good job in view, I never stand for trifles.

Scrape. But it is very slippery; and I am really afraid she will fall and break your neck.

Der. Give yourself no uneasiness about that. The mare is certainly sure-footed ; and, besides, you were just now talking of galloping her to town.

Scrape. Well, then, to tell you the plain truth, though I wish to oblige you with all my heart, my saddle is torn quite in pieces, and I have just sent my bridle to be mended.

Der. Luckily, I have both a bridle and a saddle hanging up at home.

Scrape. Ah! that may be; but I am sure your saddle will never fit my mare.

Der. Why, then I'll borrow neighbor Clodpole's.
Scrape. Člodpole's! his will no more fit than yours will.

Der. At the worst, then, I will go to my friend 'Squire Jones. He has half a score of them; and I am sure he will lend me one that will fit her.

Scrape. You know, friend Derby, that no one is more willing to oblige his neighbors than I am. I do assure you the beast should be at your service, with all my heart; but she has not been curried, I believe, for three weeks past. Her foretop and mane want combing and cutting very much. If any one should see her in her present plight, it would ruin the sale of her.

Der. 0! a horse is soon curried, and my son Sam shall dispatch her at once.

Scrape. Yes, very likely ; but I this moment recollect the creature has no shoes on.

Der. Well, is there not a blacksmith hard by ?

Scrape. What! that tinker of a Dobson ? I would not trust such a bungler to shoe a goat! No, no ; none but uncle Tom Thumper is capable of shoeing my mare.

Der. As good luck would have it, then, I shall pass right by his door. Scrape. (Calling off, L.) Timothy! Timothy!

Enter TIMOTHY, L. Here's neighbor Derby, who wants the loan of the gray mare, to ride to town to-day. You know the skin was rubbed off her back



Last week a hand's breadth or more. (He gives Tiu a wink.) However, I believe she is well enough by this time. (Tim shakes his head.) You know, Tim, how ready I am to oblige my neighbors. And, indeed, we ought to do all the good we can in this world. We must certainly let neighbor Derby have her, if she will possibly answer his purpose. Yes, yes; I see plainly, by Tim's countenance, neighbor Derby, that he's disposed to oblige you. I would not have refused you the mare for the worth of her. If I had, I should have expected you would have refused me in your turn. None of my neighbors can accuse me of being backward in doing them a kindness. Come, Timothy, what do you say?

Timothy. (L.) What do I say, father? Why, I say, sir, that I am no less ready than you are to do a neighborly kindness. But the mare is too used-up to make the journey to town to-day. About a hand's breadth, did you say, sir ? Why, the skin is torn from the poor creature's back of the bigness of


broad. brimmed hat! And, besides, I have promised her, as soon as she is able to travel, to Ned Saunders, to carry a load of apples to the market.

Scrape. (C.) Do you hear that, neighbor? I am very sorry matters turn out thus. I would not have disobliged you for the price of two such mares. Believe me, neighbor Derby, I am really sorry, for your sake, that matters turn out thus. | Der. (R.) And I as much for yours, neighbor Scrapewell ; for, to tell you the truth, I received a letter this morning from old Griffin, who tells me, if I will be in town this day, he will give me the refusal of all that lot of timber which he is about cutting down upon the back of Cobblehill ; and I intended you should have shared half of it, which would have been not less than fifty dollars in your pocket. But, as your

Scrape. Fifty dollars, did you say? Der. Ay, truly did I; but, as your mare is out of order, I'll and see if I can get old Roan, the blacksmith's horse. Scrape. Old Roan! My mare is at your service, neighbor. Here, Tim, tell Ned Saunders he can't have the mare. Neighbor Derby wants her; and I won't refuse so good a friend any thing he asks for.

Der. But what are you to do for meal ?

Scrape. My wife can do without it this fortnight, if you want the mare so long.

Der. But, then, your saddle is all in pieces.

Scrape. I meant the old one. I have bought a new one since, and you shall baye the first use of it,


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