your pocket, and let me see how soon you'll be
master of vulgar fractions. Mr. Catchpole, step
home with me, and I'll pay you the money; you
seem to be a notable sort of a fellow, Mr. Catch-reward, I'll be a new man-
pole; could you nab a man for me?

if you have a mind to thrive in this world, make
yourself useful is the golden rule.

Dick. My dear Charlotte, as you are to be my

Catch. Fast enough, sir, when I have the writ

Win. Very well, come along. I lent a young gentleman a hundred pounds, a cool hundred he called it-ha, ha! it did not stay to cool with him. I had a good premium; but I shan't wait a moment for that-Come along, young man; What right have you to twenty pounds? give you twenty pounds! I never was obliged to my family for twenty pounds-but I'll say no more;

Char. Well, now, I shall see how much you love me.

Dick. It shall be my study to deserve you; and since we don't go on the stage, 'tis some comfort that the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players.

Some play the upper, some the under parts,
And most assume what's foreign to their hearts;
Thus, life is but a tragi-comic jest,
And all is farce and mummery at best.

[Exeunt omnes.

ACT I.

Heaven help us! they have as much pride as coines to the share of a lady of quality, before she has been caught in the fact with a handsome young fellow, or indeed after she has been caught for that matter

Bel. You won't have done, rascal!

Brisk. In short, my young mistress and her maid have as much pride and poverty as-asno matter what; they have the devil and allwhen, at the same time, every body knows the old broken upholsterer, Miss Harriet's father, might give us all he has in the world, and not eat the worse pudding on a Sunday for it.

Bel. Impious, execrable atheist! What, detract from Heaven? I'll reform your notions, I will, you saucy [Beats him. Brisk. Nay, but my dear sir-a little patience -not so hard

Enter RovEwell.

Rove. Belmour, your servant-What, at loggerheads with my old friend, Brisk?

Bel. Confusion !-Mr. Rovewell, your servant this is your doing, hang dog! Jack Rovewell, I am glad to see thee

Rove. Brisk used to a good servant-he has not been tampering with any of his master's girls, has he.

Bel. Do you know, Mr. Rovewell he has had the impudence to talk distractingly and profanely of my mistress ?

Brisk. For which, sir, I have suffered inbu-
manly, and most unchristian-like, I assure you.
Bel. Will you leave prating, booby?
Rove. Well, but Belmour, where does she live?
I am but just arrived you know, and I'll go and
beat up her quarters.

Bel. [Half aside.] Beat up her quarters!-
[Looks at him smilingly then half aside.
Favours to none, to all she smiles extends?
Oft she rejects, but never once offends.

[Stands musing.

Rove. Hey! what fallen into a reverie? thee, Brisk, what does all this mean?

Brisk. Why, sir, you must knowover head and ears in love.

Bel. My dear Rovewell, such a girl! Ten thousand cupids play about her mouth, you rogue!

Rove. Ten thousand pounds had better play about her pocket. What fortune has she? Brisk. Heaven help us, not much to crack of. Bel. Not much to crack of, Mr. Brazen ! Pr'ythee, Rovewell, how can you be so ungenerous as to ask such a question? you know I don't mind fortune; though by the way she has an uncle, who is determined to settle very handsomely upon her, and on the strength of that does she give herself innumerable airs.

Rove. Fortune not to be minded! I'll tell you what, Belmour, though you have a good one already, there's no kind of inconvenience in a little more. I am sure if I had not minded fortune, I might have been in Jamaica still, not worth a sugar-cane; but the widow Molossus took a fancy to me-Heaven, or a worse destiny, has taken a fancy to her; and so, after ten years exile, and being turned a-drift by my father, here am I again, a warm planter, and a widower, most woefully tired of matrimony. But, my dear Belmour, we were both so overjoyed to meet one another yesterday evening, just as I arrived in town, that I did not hear a syllable from you of your love fit. How, when and where, did this happen?

Bel. Oh, by the most fortunate accident that ever was-I'll tell thee, Rovewell-I was going one night from the tavern about six weeks ago I had been there with a parcel of blades, whose only joy is centered in their bottle; and faith till this accident, I was no better myself-but ever since, I am grown quite a new man.

Rove. Ay, a new mau indeed! who in the name of wonder, would take thee, sunk as thou art, into a musing, moping, melancholy lover, for the gay Charles Belmour, whom I knew in the West Indies.

Bel. Poh! that is not to be mentioned. You know my father took me against my will from the university, and consigned me over to the aca demic discipline of a man of war; so that, to Pr'y-prevent a dejection of spirits, I was obliged to run into the opposite extreme-as you yourself

-I am

Rove. But I mean your master; what ails him?

Brisk. That's the very thing I am going to tell you, sir-As I said, sir-I am over head and ears in love with a whimsical queer kind of a piece here in the neighbourhood; and so nothing can serve my master, but he must fall in love with the mistress. Look at him now sir

[BELMOUR Continues musing and muttering to himself. Rove. Ha, ha, ha! Poor Belmour, I pity thee, with all my heart—

[Strikes him on the shoulder.

Ye gods, annihilate both space and time,
And make two lovers happy.

were won't to do.

Rove. Why, yes; I had my moments of reflection, and was glad to dissipate them. You know I always told you there was something extraordinary in my story; and so there is still I suppose, it must be cleared up in a few days now-I am in no hurry about it, though I must see the town a little this evening, and have my frolic first. But to the point, Belmour-you was going from the tavern you say?

Bel. Yes, sir, about two in the morning; and I perceived an unusual blaze in the air I was in a rambling humour, and so resolved to know

what it was.

Brisk. I and my master went together, sir. Bel. Oh, Rovewell! my better stars ordained it to light me on to happiness. By sure attrac tion led, I came to the very street where a house

was on fire; water-engines playing, flames ascending, all hurry, confusion and distress! when, on a sudden, the voice of despair, silver sweet, came thrilling down to my very heart. 'Poor, dear, little soul, what can she do!' cried the neighbours. Again she screamed; the fire gathering force, and gaining upon her every instant. Here, madam, said I leap into my arms, I'll be sure to receive you. And would you think it down she came my dear Rovewell, such a girl! I caught her in my arms, you rogue, safe, without harm. The dear naked Venus, just risen from her bed, my boy—her slender waist, Rovewell, the downy smoothness of her whole persou, and her limbs harmonious swelling by nature's softest hand!

Rove. Raptures and paradise! What seraglio in Covent Garden did you carry her to?

I'll drink with you, game with you, go into any scheme or frolic with you; but 'ware matrimony! Nay, if you come to the tavern this evening, I'll drink your mistress's health in a bumper; but as to your conjugal scheme, I'll have nothing to do with that business possitively.

Bel. Well, well, I'll take you at your word, and meet you at ten exactly, at the same place we were at last night; then and there I'll let you know what further measures I have concerted.

Rove. 'Till then, farewell; a-propos-do you know that I have seen none of my relations yet?, Bel. Time enough to-morrow.

Rove. Ay, ay, tomorrow will do-Well, your

servant.

Bel. Rovewell, yours, [Exit.] See the gentleman down stairs-and d'ye hear? come to me in my study, that I may give you a letter to Harriet. And harkye, sir-be sure you see Harriet herself; and let me have no messages from that officious go-between, her mistress Slipslop of a maid, with her unintelligible jargon of hard

Bel. There again, now! Do, pr'ythee, correct your way of thinking: take a quantum sufficit of virtuous love, and purify your ideas. Her lovely bashfulness, her delicate fears, her beauty, heightened and endeared by distress, dispersed my wildest thoughts, and melted me into ten-words, of which she neither knows the meaning derness and respect.

Rove. But, Belmour, surely she has not the impudence to be modest after you have had possession of her person?

Bel. My views are honourable, I assure you, sir; but her father is so absurdly positive. The man is distracted about the balance of power, and will give his daughter to none but to a politician. When there was an execution in his house, he thought of nothing but the camp at Pyrna; and now he's bankrupt, his head runs upon the ways and means, and schemes for paying off the national debt: the affairs of Europe engross all his attention, while the distresses of his lovely daughter pass unnoticed.

Rove. Ridiculous enough! But why do you mind him! Why don't you go to bed to the wench at once!- -Take her into keeping,

man.

nor pronunciation. [Exit BRISK.] I'll write to her this moment, acquaint her with the soft tumult of my desires, and, if possible, make her my own this very night. [Exit repeating.

'Love first taught letters for some wretch's aid, Some banished lover, or some captive maid.

SCENE II.-The Upholsterer's House.

Enter HARRIET and TERMAGANT. Ter. Well, but madam, he has made love to you six weeks successively; he has been as constant in his moors, poor gentlemen as if you had the subversion of 'state to settle upon him-and if he slips through your fingers now, madam, you have nobody to depute it but yourself.

Har. Lard, Termagant, how you run on! I tell you again and again, my pride was touched, because he seemed to presume on his opulence

Bel. How can you talk so affrontingly of her? Have not I told you, though her father is ruined, still she has great expectances from a rich rela-ard my father's distresses.

tion.

Rove. Then, what do you stand watering at the mouth for? If she is to have money enough to pay for her china, her gaming debts, her dogs, and her monkeys, marry her then, if you needs must be ensnared: be in a fool's paradise for a honey moon; then, come to yourself, wonder at what you have done, and mix with honest fellows again: carry her off, I say, and never stand whining for the father's consent.

Bel. Carry her off! I like the scheme-Will you assist me?

Rove. No, no, there I beg to be excused.Don't you remember what the satyrist says'Never marry while there's a halter to be had for money, or a bridge to afford a convenient leap.'

Bel. Pr'ythee leave fooling.

Ter. La, Miss Harriet, how can you be so paradropsical in your 'pinions?

Har. Well, but you know, though my father's affairs are ruined, I am not in so desperate a way; consider my uncle's fortune is no trifle, and I think that prospect entitles me to give my self a few airs, before I resign my person.

Ter. I grant ye, madam, you have very good pretensions; but then, it's waiting for dead men's shoes: I'll venture to be perjured Mr. Bellmour never disclaimed an idear of your father's distress.

Har. Supposing that?

Ter. Suppose madam-I know it disputably to be so.

Har. Indisputably, I guess you mean; but I'm tired of wrangling with you about words. Ter. By my troth, you are in the right on't

Rove, I am in serious earnest, I assure you. there's ne'er a she in all Old England, (as your

father calls it) is mistress of such phisiology, as Har. You'll give me leave to see you to the I am. Incertain I am, as how you does not know door, sir. [Erit HARRIET. nobody that puts their words together with such Ter. O' my conscience, this master of mine a curacy as myself. I once lived with a mistus, within here might have picked up his crumbs as madam-Mistus! She was a lady-a great brew-well as Mr. Feeble, if he had any idear of his

er's wife-and she wore as fine clothes as any person of quality, let her get up as early as she will-and she used to call me-Termagant, says she-what is the figrification of such a word and I always told her-I told her the importation of all my words; though I could not help laughing, Miss Harriet, to see so fine a lady such a downright ignoramus.

Har. Well-but pray now, Termagant, would you have me, directly upon being asked the question, throw myself into the arms of a man?

Ter. O' my conscience you did throw yourself into his arms, with scarce a shift on: that's what yon did.

Har. Yes; but that was a leap in the dark, when there was no time to think of it.

Ter. Well, it does not signify arguing, I wish Quid. Six and three is nine-seven and four we were both warm in bed; you with Mr. Belmour, and I with his coxcomb of a man; instead is eleven, and carry one-let me see, 126 million of being manured here with an old crazy fool-199 thousand $28-and all this with about— axing your pardon, madam, for calling your fa- where, where's the amount of the specie? Here, ther so-but he is fool, and the worst of fools, here-with about 15 million in specie, all this with his policies-when his house is full of sta- great circulation! good, good-Why then, how tues of bangcressy. are we ruined? how are we ruined? What says the land-tax at 4 shilling in the pound? two million: n : now where's my new assessment?-bere

yet he's

Hur. 'Tis too true, Termagantmy father still, and I can't help loving him. Ter. Fiddie Faddle-love him! He's an anec--here-the 5th part of twenty; 5 in 2, I can't dote against love.

Har Hush! here he comes!

but 5 in 20 [Pauses.] right, 4 times—why then, upon my new assessment there's 4 million-how gentle-mum?-eleven and carry 1, nought and go 2are we ruined?What says malt, cyder, and

Ter. No, 'tis your uncle, Feeble; poor man, I pities him, eaten up with infirmaries, to be taken such pains with a madman.

Enter FEEBLE.

Har. Well, uncle, have you been able to console him?

good, good; malt, hops, cyder, and mum. Then there's the wine licence; and the gin-act is no bad article-if the people will shoot fire down their throats, why, in a Christian country, they should pay as much as possible for suicide-Salt, good sugar, very good-Window-lights-good Feeb. He wants no consolation, child-Lack- again!-Stamp-duty, that's not so well-it will a-day-I'm so infirm I can hardly move. I have a bad effect upon the newspapers, and we found hm tracing in the map prince Charles shan't have enough of politics-But there's the Lorraine's passage over the Rhine, and compar-here it is-Now for the amount of the whole lottery-where's my new scheme for a lottery? ing it with Julius Cæsar's.

Ter. An old blockhead!--I've no patience with him, with his fellows coming after him every hour in the day with news. Well now, I wishes there was no such thing as a newspaper in the world, with such a pack of lies, and such a deal of jab-jab every day.

Feeb. Ay, there were three or four shabby fellows with him when I went into his room-I can't get him to think of appearing before the commissioners to-morrow, to disclose his effects; but I'll send my neighbour, Counsellor Codicil, to him-Don't be dejected, Harriet; my poor sister, your mother, was a good woman: I love you for her sake, child, and all I am worth shall be yours-but I must be going-I find myself but very ill; good night, Harriet, good night!

[Exit FEEBLE.

2

how are we ruined? 7 and carry nought— nought and carry 1

Ter. Sir, sir

Enter TERMAGANT.

Quid. Hold your tongue, you baggage ! you'll put me out-Nought and carry 1.

Ter. Counsellor Codicil will be with you presently-How are

Quid. Pr'ythee be quiet, womanwe ruined?

Ter. Ay, I'm confidous as how you may thank yourself for your own ruination.

Quid. Ruin the nation!-hold your tongue, you jade! I'm raising the supplies within the year-How many did I carry?