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receive forty guineas from his father juft before he fet out, and he can't yet have left the inn. A short letter will reach him there.

OLIVIA.

Well remember'd, Garnet; I'll write immediately. How's this! Bless me, my hand trembles fo, I can't write a word. Do you write, Garnet; and, upon fecond thought, it will be better from you.

GARNET.

Truly, madam, I write and indite but poorly. I never was kute at my learning.

But I'll do what I

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At the bar of the Talbot till call'd for. Expedition-Will be blown up-All of a flame-Quick dispatch-Cupid, the litle god of love-I conclude it, madam, with Cupid; I love to fee a love-letter end like poetry.

OLIVIA.

Well, well, what you please, any thing. But how fhall we fend it I can trust none of the fervants of this family.

GARNET.

Odfo, madam, Mr. Honeywood's butler is in the next room: he's a dear, sweet man; he'll do any thing for me.

JARVIS.

He the dog, he'll certainly commit fome blunder. He's drunk and fober 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. faft but we, that are old, and know what we are about, muft elope methodically, madam.

OLIVIA,

Well, fure, if my indifcretions were to be done over again

JARVIS.

JARVIS.

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

OLIVIA.

Why will you talk so? If you knew how unhappy they make me

JARVIS.

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

OLIVIA.

A ftory! when I'm all impatience to be away. Was there ever fuch a dilatory creature!

JARVIS.

Well, madam, if we must march, why we will march; that's all. Though, odds bobs, we have ftill forgot one thing, we should never travel without-a cafe of good razors, and a box of fhavingpowder. But no matter, I believe we shall be pretty [Going.

well shaved by the

way.

Enter GARNET.

GARNET,

Undone, undone, madam. Ah, Mr. Jarvis, you faid right enough. As fure as death, Mr. Honeywood's rogue of a drunken butler dropp'd the letter

before

before he went ten yards from the door. There's old Croaker has juft pick'd it up, and is this moment reading it to himself in the hall.

OLIVIA.

Unfortunate! We fhall be discovered.

GARNET.

No, madám: don't be uneafy, he can make neither head nor tail of it. To be fure he looks as if he was broke loose from Bedlam about it, but he can't find what it means for all that. O lud, he is coming this way all in the horrors !

OLIVIA.

Then let us leave the house this inftant, for fear he should ask farther questions. In the mean time, Garnet, do you write and fend off juft fuch another. [Exeunt.

Enter CROAKER.

CROAKER.

Death and deftruction! Are all the horrors of air, fire and water to be levelled only at me! Am I only to be fingled out for gunpowder-plots, combuftibles and conflagration! Here it is-An incendiary letter dropped at my door. "To mufter Croaker, these " with speed." Aye, aye, plain enough the direction all in the genuine incendiary spelling, and

as

1

as cramp as the devil. "With speed." O, confound your speed. But let me read it once more, (Reads.) "Mufter Croaker as fone as yoew fee this. "leve twenty guineas at the bar of the Talboot tell "called for or yowe and yower experetion will be "al blown up." 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." Aye, there's the reafon; they'll blow us up, because they have got low pockets. (Reads.) "It is but a short time you have to confider; for if "this takes wind, the house will quickly be all of 66 a flame." Inhuman monfters! blow us up, and then burn us. The earthquake at Lisbon was but a bonfire to it. (Reads.) "Make quick dispatch,

and fo no more at prefent. But may Cupid, the "little god of love, go with you wherever you go. The little god of love! Cupid, the little god of love go with me! Go you to the devil, you and your little Cupid together; I'm fo frightened, I scarce know whether I fit, ftand, or go. Perhaps this moment I'm treading on lighted matches, blazing brimftone, and barrels of gunpowder. They are preparing to blow me up into the clouds. Murder! We shall be all burnt in our beds; we fhall be all burnt in our beds,

Ho Enter

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