only to get a bill changed in the city! How provoking.

Garnet. I'll lay my life, Mr. Leontine, that had twice as much to do, is setting off by this time from his inn; and here you are left behind.

I'll do what I can to please you. Let me see. All out of my own head, I suppose!

Olivia. Whatever you please.

Garnet [writing.] Muster Croaker-Twenty guineas, madam?

Olivia. Ay, twenty will do.

Olivia. Well, let us be prepared for his coming, however. Are you sure you have omitted nothing, Garnet. At the bar of the Talbot till called for. Garnet? Expedition-Will be blown up-All of a flameGarnet. Not a stick, madam―all's here. Yet Quick dispatch-Cupid, the little god of love.—I I wish you would take the white and silver to be conclude it, madam, with Cupid: I love to see a married in. It's the worst luck in the world, in love-letter end like poetry.

any thing but white. I knew one Bett Stubbs of our town that was married in red; and, as sure as eggs is eggs, the bridegroom and she had a miff before morning.

Olivia. Well, well, what you please, any thing. But how shall we send it? I can trust none of the servants of this family.

Garnet. Odso, madam, Mr. Honeywood's but

Olivia. No matter. I'm all impatience till we ler is in the next room: he's a dear, sweet man, are out of the house. he'll do any thing for me.

Garnet. Bless me, madam, I had almost forgot the wedding ring!-The sweet little thing-I don't think it would go on my little finger. And what if I put in a gentleman's night-cap, in case of necessity, madam?-But here's Jarvis.

Enter JARVIS.

Olivia. O Jarvis, are you come at last? We have been ready this half hour. Now let's be going. Let us fly!

Jarvis. He! the dog, he'll certainly commit soine blunder. He's drunk and sober ten times a-day.

Olivia. No matter. Fly, Garnet; any body we can trust will do. [Exit Garnet.] Well, Jarvis, now we can have nothing more to interrupt us; you may take up the things, and carry them on to the inn. Have you no hands, Jarvis?

Jarvis. Soft and fair, young lady. You that are going to be married, think things can never be done too fast; but we, that are old, and know what

Jarvis. Ay, to Jericho; for we shall have no we are about, must elope methodically, madam. going to Scotland this bout, I fancy.

Olivia. How! what's the matter? Jarvis. Money, money, is the matter, madam. We have got no money. What the plague do you send me of your fool's errand for? My master's bill upon the city is not worth a rush. Here it is; Mrs. Garnet may pin up her hair with it.

Olivia. Undone! How could Honeywood serve us so? What shall we do? Can't we go without it? Jarvis. Go to Scotland without money! To Scotland without money! Lord, how some people understand geography! We might as well set sail for Patagonia upon a cork-jacket.

Olivia. Such a disappointment! What a base msincere man was your master, to serve us in this manner! Is this his good-nature?

Jarvis Nay, don't talk ill of my master, madam. I won't bear to hear any body talk ill of him but myself.

Garnet. Bless us! now I think on't, madam, you need not be under any uneasiness: I saw Mr. Leontine receive forty guineas from his father just before he set out, and be can't yet have left the inn. A short letter will reach him there.

Olivia. Well, sure, if my indiscretions were to be done over again—

Jarvis. My life for it, you would do them ten times over.

Olivia. Why will you talk so? If you knew how unhappy they made me——

Jarvis. Very unhappy, no doubt: I was once just as unhappy when I was going to be married myself. I'll tell you a story about that

Olivia. A story! when I'm all impatience to be away. Was there ever such a dilatory creature!—

Jarvis. Well, madam, if we must march, why we will march, that's all. Though, odds-bobs, we have still forgot one thing: we should never travel without-a case of good razors, and a box of shaving powder. But no matter, I believe we shall be pretty well shaved by the way. [Going.

Enter GARNET.

Garnet. Undone, undone, madam. Ah, Mr. Jarvis, you said right enough. As sure as death, Mr. Honeywood's rogue of a drunken butler dropped the letter before he went ten yards from the door. There's old Croaker has just picked it up, Olivia. Well remembered, Garnet; I'll write and is this moment reading it to himself in the hall. immediately. How's this! Bless me, my hand Olivia. Unfortunate! we shall be discovered. trembles so, I can't write a word. Do you write, Garnet. No, madam; don't be uneasy, he can Garnet; and, upon second thought, it will be bet- make neither head nor tail of it. To be sure he ter from you. looks as if he was broke loose from Bedlam about Garnet. Truly, madam, I write and indite but it, but he can't find what it means for all that. O poorly. I never was 'cute at my learning. But lud, he is coming this way all in the horrors!

Olivia. Then let us leave the house this instant, the bakers to poison us in our bread; and so kept for fear he should ask further questions. In the the family a week upon potatoes. mean time, Garnet, do you write and send off just such another,

Enter CROAKER.

[Exeunt.

-but he's here.

Enter HONEYWOOD.

Croaker. And potatoes were too good for them. But why do I stand talking here with a girl, when I should be facing the enemy without? Here, John, Nicodemus, search the house. Look into the celCroaker, Death and destruction! Are all the lars, to see if there be any combustibles below; horrors of air, fire, and water, to be levelled only at and above, in the apartments, that no matches be me? Am I only to be singled out for gunpowder-thrown in at the windows. Let all the fires be put plots, combustibles and conflagration? Here it is-out, and let the engine be drawn out in the yard, An incendiary letter dropped at my door. "To to play upon the house in case of necessity. [Exit Muster Croaker, these with speed." Ay, ay, Miss Richland [alone.] What can he mean by plain enough the direction: all in the genuine all this? Yet why should I inquire, when he incendiary spelling, and as cramp as the devil. alarms us in this manner almost every day. But "With speed." O, confound your speed. But Honeywood has desired an interview with me in let me read it once more. [Reads.] Muster private. What can he mean? or rather, what Croaker, as sone as yowe see this, leve twenty means this palpitation at his approach? It is the guineas at the bar of the Talboot tell called for, or first time he ever showed any thing in his conduct yowe and yower experetion will be all blown up." that seemed particular. Sure he can not mear to Ah, but too plain. Blood and gunpowder in every line of it, Blown up! Murderous dog! All blown up! Heavens! what have I and my poor family done, to be all blown up? [Reads.] "Our pockets are low, and money we must have." Ay, there's the reason; they'll blow us up, because they have got low pockets. [Reads.] "It is but a short time you have to consider; for if this takes wind, the house will quickly be all of a flame." Inhuman of this interview,-in order to disclose something monsters! blow us up, and then burn us! The which our long friendship prompts. And yet my earthquake at Lisbon was but a bonfire to it. fears[Reads.] "Make quick dispatch, and so no more Miss Richland. His fears! What are his fears at present, But may Cupid, the little god of love, to mine! [Aside.] We have indeed been long acgo with you wherever you go." The little god of quainted, sir; very long. If I remember, our first love! Cupid, the little god of love go with me!-Go you to the devil, you and your little Cupid together. I'm so frightened, I scarce know whether I sit, stand, or go. Perhaps this moment I'm treading on lighted matches, blazing brimstone, and barrels of gunpowder. They are preparing to blow me up into the clouds. Murder! We shall be all burnt in our beds; we shall be all burnt in our beds.

Enter MISS RICHLAND.

Miss Richland. Lord, sir, what's the matter?
Croaker. Murder's the matter. We shall be all
blown up in our beds before morning.
Miss Richland. I hope not, sir.
Croaker. What signifies what you hope, madam,

Honeywood. I presumed to solicit this interview madam, before I left town, to be permitted— Miss Richland. Indeed! Leaving town, sir?— Honeywood. Yes, madam; perhaps the kingdom, I have presumed, I say, to desire the favour

meeting was at the French ambassador's.—Do you recollect how you were pleased to rally me upon my complexion there?

Honeywood. Perfectly, madam; I presumed to reprove you for painting; but your warmer blushes soon convinced the company, that the colouring was all from nature,

Miss Richland. And yet you only meant it in your good-natured way, to make me pay a compliment to myself. In the same manner you danced that night with the most awkward woman in company, because you saw nobody else would take her

out.

Honeywood. Yes, and was rewarded the next |night, by dancing with the finest woman in comwhen I have a certificate of it here in my hand? pany, whom every body wished to take out.

Will nothing alarm my family? Sleeping and eat

Miss Richland. Well, sir, if you thought so ing, sleeping and eating is the only work from then, I fear your judgment has since corrected the morning till night in my house. My insensible errors of a first impression. crew could sleep though rocked by an earthquake, to most advantage at first. and fry beef-steaks at a volcano. tradesmen, that put all their at the windows.

We generally show Our sex are like poor best goods to be seen

Miss Richland. But, sir, you have alarmed them so often already; we have nothing but earthquakes, Honeywood. The first impression, madam, did famines, plagues, and mad dogs, from year's end indeed deceive me. I expected to find a woman to year's end. You remember, sir, it is not above with all the faults of conscious flattered beauty: I a month ago, you assured us of a conspiracy among expected to find her vain and insolent But every

day has since taught me, that it is possible to pos-disclaim his friendship who ceases to be a friend to sess sense without pride, and beauty without affec- himself. [Exit. tation. Honeywood. How is this! she has confessed she Miss Richland. This, sir, is a style very unusual loved him, and yet she seemed to part in displeawith Mr. Honeywood; and I should be glad to sure. Can I have done any thing to reproach my know why he thus attempts to increase that vanity, self with? No; I believe not yet after all, these which his own lessons have taught me to despise. things should not be done by a third person: I Honeywood. I ask pardon, madam. Yet, from should have spared her confusion. My friendship our long friendship, I presumed I might have some carried me a little too far. right to offer, without offence, what you may refuse, without offending.

Miss Richland. Sir! I beg you'd reflect: though, I fear, I shall scarce have any power to refuse a request of yours, yet you may be precipitate: consider, sir.

Honeywood. I own my rashness; but as I plead the cause of friendship, of one who loves-Don't be alarmed, madam-who loves you with the most ardent passion, whose whole happiness is placed in you

Miss Richland. I fear, sir, I shall never find whom you mean, by this description of him.

Honeywood. Ah, madam, it but too plainly points him out; though he should be too humble himself to urge his pretensions, or you too modest to understand them.

Miss Richland. Well; it would be affectation any longer to pretend ignorance; and I will own, sir, I have long been prejudiced in his favour. It was but natural to wish to make his heart mine, as he seemed himself ignorant of its value.

Honeywood. I see she always loved him [Aside.] I find, madam, you're already sensible of his worth, his passion. How happy is my friend, to be the favourite of one with such sense to distinguish merit, and such beauty to reward it.

Miss Richland. Your friend, sir! What friend? Honeywood. My best friend-my friend Mr. Lofty, madam.

Miss Richland. He, sir!

Honeywood. Yes, he, madam. He is, indeed, what your warmest wishes might have formed him; and to his other qualities he adds that of the most passionate regard for you.

Enter CROAKER, with the letter in his hand, and MRS
CROAKER.

Mrs. Croaker. Ha! ha! ha! And so, my dear, it's your supreme wish that I should be quite wretched upon this occasion? ha! ha!

Croaker [Mimicking]. Ha! ha! ha! And so, my dear, it's your supreme pleasure to give me no better consolation?

Mrs. Croaker. Positively, my dear; what is this incendiary stuff and trumpery to me? our house may travel through the air like the house of Loretto, for aught I care, if I am to be miserable in it.

Croaker. Would to Heaven it were converted into a house of correction for your benefit. Have we not every thing to alarm us? Perhaps this very moment the tragedy is beginning.

Mrs. Croaker. Then let us reserve our distress till the rising of the curtain, or give them the money they want, and have done with them.

Croaker. Give them my money!-And pray, what right have they to my money?

Mrs. Croaker. And pray, what right then have you to my good-humour?

Croaker. And so your good-humour advises me to part with my money? Why then, to tell your good-humour a piece of my mind, I'd sooner part with my wife. Here's Mr. Honeywood, see what he'll say to it. My dear Honeywood, look at this incendiary letter dropped at my door. It will freeze you with terror; and yet lovey here can read it— can read it, and laugh.

Mrs. Croaker. Yes, and so will Mr. Honeywood.

Croaker. If he does, I'll suffer to be hanged the

Miss Richland. Amazement!-No more of this, next minute in the rogue's place, that's all. I beg you, sir.

Mrs. Croaker. Speak, Mr. Honey wood; is there any thing more foolish than my husband's fright upon this occasion?

Honeywood. I see your confusion, madam, and know how to interpret it. And, since I so plainly read the language of your heart, shall I make my friend happy, by communicating your sentiments? Miss Richland. By no means. Honeywood. Excuse me, I must; I know you another time. desire it.

Honeywood. It would not become me to decide, madam; but doubtless, the greatness of his terrors now will but invite them to renew their villany

Mrs. Croaker. I told you, he'd be of my opinion. Croaker. How, sir! do you maintain that I should lie down under such an injury, and show, neither by my tears nor complaints, that I have something of the spirit of a man in me?

Miss Richland. Mr. Honeywood, let me tell you, that you wrong my sentiments and yourself. When I first applied to your friendship, I expected advice and assistance; but now, sir, I see that it is in vain to expect happiness from him who has been Honeywood. Pardon me, sir. You ought to so bad an economist of his own; and that I must make the loudest complaints, if you desire redress,

The surest way to have redress, is to be earnest in the pursuit of it.

Croaker. Ay, whose opinion is he of now? Mrs. Croaker. But don't you think that laughing off our fears is the best way?

Honeywood. What is the best, madam, few can say; but I'll maintain it to be a very wise way.

Honeywood. Ay, but not punish him too rigidly. Croaker. Well, well, leave that to my own benevolence.

Honeywood. Well, I do; but remember that universal benevolence is the first law of nature. [Exeunt Honeywood and Mrs. Croaker Croaker. Yes; and my universal benevolence

Croaker. But we're talking of the best. Surely will hang the dog, if he had as many necks as a the best way is to face the enemy in the field, and hydra.

not wait till he plunders us in our very bed-chamber.

Honeywood. Why sir, as to the best, that

that's a very wise way too.

Mrs. Croaker. But can any thing be more absurd, than to double our distresses by our apprehensions, and put it in the power of every low fellow, that can scrawl ten words of wretched spelling, to torment us.

Honeywood. Without doubt, nothing more ab- however.

surd.

Croaker. How! would it not be more absurd to despise the rattle till we are bit by the snake? Honeywood. Without doubt, perfectly absurd. Croaker. Then you are of my opinion? Honeywood. Entirely.

Mrs. Croaker. And you reject mine? Honeywood. Heavens forbid, madam! No sure, no reasoning can be more just than yours. We ought certainly to despise malice if we can not oppose it, and not make the incendiary's pen as fatal to our repose as the highwayman's pistol.

Mrs. Croaker. O! then you think I'm quite right.

Honeywood. Perfectly right.

Croaker. A plague of plagues, we can't be both right. I ought to be sorry, or I ought to be glad. My hat must be on my head, or my hat must be off. Mrs. Croaker. Certainly, in two opposite opinions, if one be perfectly reasonable, the other can't be perfectly right.

ACT V

SCENE-AN INN.

Enter OLIVIA, JARVIS.

Olivia. WELL, we have got safe to the inn, Now, if the post-chaise were ready— Jarvis, The horses are just finishing their cats; and, as they are not going to be married, they choose to take their own time.

Olivia. You are for ever giving wrong motives to my impatience.

Jarvis. Be as impatient as you will, the horses must take their own time; besides, you don't consider we have got no answer from our fellow traveller yet. If we hear nothing from Mr. Leontine, we have only one way left us.

Olivia. What way?

Jarvis. The way hoine again.

Olivia. Not so. I have made a resolution to go, and nothing shall induce me to break it.

Jarvis. Ay; resolutions are well kept, when they jump with inclination. However, I'll go hasten things without. And I'll call, too, at the bar, to see if any thing should be left for us there. Don't be in such a plaguy hurry, madam, and we shall go the faster, I promise you. [Exit Jarvis.

Enter LANDLADY.

Landlady. What! Solomon, why don't you

Honeywood. And why may not both be right, madam? Mr. Croaker in earnestly seeking redress, and you in waiting the event with good-humour? move? Pipes and tobacco for the Lamb there.Pray, let me see the letter again. I have it. This Will nobody answer? To the Dolphin; quick. letter requires twenty guineas to be left at the bar of the Talbot Inn. If it be indeed an incendiary letter, what if you and I, sir, go there; and when the writer comes to be paid for his expected booty, seize him.

The Angel has been outrageous this half hour.
Did your ladyship call, madam?

Olivia. No, madam.

Landlady. I find as you're for Scotland, madam, -But that's no business of mine; married, or not Croaker. My dear friend, it's the very thing; married, I ask no questions. To be sure we had the very thing. While I walk by the door, you a sweet little couple set off from this two days ago shall plant yourself in ambush near the bar; burst for the same place. The gentleman, for a tailor, out upon the miscreant like a masked battery; ex- was, to be sure, as fine a spoken tailor as ever blew tort a confession at once, and so hang him up by froth from a full pot. And the young lady so bashsurprise. ful, it was near half an hour before we could get her to finish a pint of raspberry between us.

Honeywood. Yes, but I would not choose to exercise too much severity. It is my maxim, sir, that crimes generally punish themselves.

Croaker. Well, but we may upbraid him a little, I suppose? [Ironically.

Olivia. But this gentleman and I are not going to be married, I assure you.

Landlady. May-be not. That's no business of mine; for certain, Scotch marriages seldom turn

out. There was, of my own knowledge, Miss Mac-employment till we are out of danger, nothing can fag, that married her father's footman-Alack-a- interrupt our journey. day, she and her husband soon parted, and now keep separate cellars in Hedge-lane.

Olivia. A very pretty picture of what lies before [Aside.

me!

Enter LEONTINE.

Leontine. My dear Olivia, my anxiety, till you were out of danger, was too great to be resisted. I could not help coming to see you set out, though it exposes us to a discovery.

Olivia. May every thing you do prove as fortunate. Indeed, Leontine, we have been most cruelly disappointed. Mr. Honeywood's bill upon the city has, it seems, been protested, and we have been utterly at a loss how to proceed.

Olivia. I have no doubt of Mr. Honeywood's sincerity, and even his desires to serve us. My fears are from your father's suspicions. A mind so disposed to be alarmed without a cause, will be but too ready when there's a reason.

Leontine. Why let him when we are out of his power. But believe me, Olivia, you have no great reason to dread his resentment. His repining temper, as it does no manner of injury to himself, so will it never do harm to others. He only frets to keep himself employed, and scolds for his private amusement.

Olivia. I don't know that; but, I'm sure, on some occasions it makes him look most shockingly. Croaker [discovering himself] How does he

Leontine. How! an offer of his own too. Sure, look now?-How does he look now? he could not mean to deceive us?

Olivia. Depend upon his sincerity; he only mistook the desire for the power of serving us. But let us think no more of it. I believe the post-chaise is ready by this.

Landlady. Not quite yet; and, begging your ladyship's pardon, I don't think your ladyship quite ready for the post-chaise. The north road is a cold place, madam. I have a drop in the house of as pretty raspberry as ever was tipt over tongue. Just a thimble-full to keep the wind off your stomach. To be sure, the last couple we had here, they said it was a perfect nosegay. Ecod, I sent them both away as good-natured-Up went the blinds, round went the wheels, and drive away post-boy was the word.

Enter CROAKER.

Croaker. Well, while my friend Honeywood is upon the post of danger at the bar, it must be my business to have an eye about me here. I think I know an incendiary's look; for wherever the devil makes a purchase, he never fails to set his mark. Ha! who have we here? My son and daughter! What can they be doing here?

Olivia. Ah!

Leontine. Undone.

Croaker. How do I look now? Sir, I am your very humble servant. Madam, I am yours. What, you are going off, are you? Then, first, if you please, take a word or two from me with you before you go. Tell me first where you are going; and when you have told me that, perhaps I shall know as little as I did before.

Leontine. If that be so, our answer might but increase your displeasure, without adding to your information.

Croaker. I want no information from you, puppy: and you too, good madam, what answer have you got? Eh! [A cry without, stop him.] 1 think I heard a noise. My friend Honeywood withouthas he seized the incendiary? Ah, no, for now I hear no more on't.

Leontine. Honeywood without! Then, sir, it was Mr. Honeywood that directed you hither? Croaker. No, sir, it was Mr. Honeywood conducted me hither.

Leontine. Is it possible?

Croaker. Possible! Why he's in the house now, sir; more anxious about me than my own son, sir. Leontine. Then, sir, he's a villain.

Landlady. I tell you, madam, it will do you good; I think I know by this time what's good for Croaker. How, sirrah! a villain, because he takes the north road. It's a raw night, madam.-Sir-most care of your father? I'll not bear it. I tell Leontine. Not a drop more, good madam. I you I'll not bear it. Honeywood is a friend to the should now take it as a greater favour, if you hasten family, and I'll have him treated as such.

the horses, for I am afraid to be seen myself.

Landlady. That shall be done. Wha, Solomon! are you all dead there? Wha, Solomon, I say! [Exit, bawling.

Leontine. I shall study to repay his friendship as it deserves.

Croaker. Ah, rogue, if you knew how earnestly he entered into my griefs, and pointed out the means Olivia. Well, I dread lest an expedition begun to detect them, you would love him as I do. [A in fear, should end in repentance.-Every moment cry without, stop him.] Fire and fury! they have we stay increases our danger, and adds to my apprehensions.

seized the incendiary: they have the villain, the incendiary in view. Stop him! stop an incendiary! a murderer! stop him!

[Exit. Olivia. O, my terrors! What can this tumul

Leontine. There's no danger, trust me, my dear; there can be none. If Honeywood has acted with honour, and kept my father, as he promised, in mean?