Leontine. But, sir, I must beg leave to insist Croaker. 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. Croaker. Mr. Croaker, I bring you something, my dear, that I believe will make you smile.

Croaker. I'll hold you a guinea of that, my dear.

Mrs. Croaker. A letter; and, as I knew the hand, I ventured to open it.

Croaker. And how can you expect your breaking open my letters should give me pleasure?

Mrs. Croaker. Poo! it's from your sister at Lyons, and contains good news; read it.

Croaker. What a Frenchified cover is here! That sister of mine has some good qualities; but I could never teach her to fold a letter.

Mrs. Croaker. Fold a fiddlestick! Read what it contains.

Croaker (reading).

DEAR NICK,- An English gentleman, of large fortune, has for some time made private, though honorable 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. RACHAEL 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

Yours ever,

baggage has carried it 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. Croaker. Well, if they have concealed their amour, they shan't conceal their wedding; that shall be public, I'm resolved.

Croaker. I tell thee, woman, the wedding is the most foolish part of the ceremony. I can never get this woman to think of the most serious part of the nuptial engagement.

Mrs. Croaker. What would you have me think of, their funeral? 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 back-stairs favorite, one that can do what he pleases with those that do what they please? Is n't he an acquaintance that all your groaning and lamentations could never have got us?

Croaker. 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. Croaker. That, perhaps, may be owing to his nicety. Great men are not easily satisfied.

Enter French Servant.

Servant. An expresse1 from Monsieur Lofty. He vil be vait upon your honors instammant. He be only giving four five instruction, read two tree memorial,

1

an expresse: A personal messenger; usually used only by

royalty.

call upon von ambassadeur. He vil be vid tree minutes.

you in one

Mrs. Croaker. You see now, my dear. What an extensive department! Well, friend, let your master know that we are extremely honored by this honor. Was there anything ever in a higher style of breeding? All messages among the great are now done by express. [Exit French Servant.

Croaker. 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. Croaker. 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.

Croaker. Ay, verily, there he is! as close upon the heels of his own express, as an endorsement 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 consent. I must seem to be angry, or she too may begin to despise my authority. [Exit.

Enter Lofty, speaking to his Servant. Lofty. And if the Venetian ambassador, or that teasing creature, the Marquis, should call, I'm not at home. Dam'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 ten thousand pardons!

Mrs. Croaker. Sir, this honor

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. Croaker. Sir, this honor

Lofty. And, Dubardieu! if the man comes from the Cornish borough, you must do him; you must do him, I say.- Madam, I ask 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 honor of being permitted to profess myself your most obedient, humble servant!

Mrs. Croaker. Sir, the happiness and honor are all mine; and yet, I'm only robbing the public while I detain you.

Lofty. Sink the public, madam, when the fair are to be attended. Ah, could all my hours be so charmingly devoted! Sincerely, don't you pity us poor creatures in affairs? Thus it is eternally; solicited for places here, teased for pensions there, and courted everywhere. I know you pity me. Yes, I see you do. Mrs. Croaker. Excuse me, sir. "Toils of empires pleasures are," as Waller says.1

Lofty. Waller, Waller; is he of the House?

sir.

Mrs. Croaker. The modern poet of that name,

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

1 "Toils of empires": No such line can be found in the works of Waller, an English poet (1605-87), who dealt largely with political topics.

I stand that know nothing of books. I say, madam, I know nothing of books; and yet, I believe, upon a landcarriage fishery,' a stamp act,2 or a jaghire,3 I can talk my two hours without feeling the want of them.

Mrs. Croaker. The world is no stranger to Mr. Lofty's eminence in every capacity.

Lofty. I vow to gad, madam, you make me blush. I'm 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 honorable, my resentment has never done the men, as mere men, any manner of harm that is, as mere men.

Mrs. Croaker. What importance, and yet what modesty!

Lofty. Oh, if you talk of modesty, madam, there I own, I'm 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; 66 no man has a finer knowledge of things; quite a man of information;

1 land-carriage fishery: Dobson says (Notes to Goldsmith's Plays, Belles-Lettres Series) that fish machines for carrying fish to London were introduced in 1761.

2 stamp act: The question of American taxation had been up in Parliament since 1764, and in the debates that followed, Goldsmith's friend Burke had taken an active part.

jaghire: A term arising from England's traffic in India; meaning an assignment of government produce to a person as an annuity. See Burke's Impeachment of Warren Hastings, Fifth Day.

• Measures, not men: Compare this with Burke's "Of this stamp is the cant of Not men but measures." Thoughts on the Cause of Present Discontents.