Love. Forfeit what? my life, and soul, and blood, and heart!

Lup. You shall forfeit it

Love. I'll be buried alive sooner: no, I am determined I'll marry her first, and hang myself afterwards, to save my money.

Lap. I see, sir, you are undone; and if you should hang yourself, I could not blame you. Love. Could I but save one thousand by it, I would hang myself with all my soul. Shall I live to die not worth a groat?

Lap. Oh, my poor master! my poor master! [Crying. Love. Why did I not die a year ago? what a deal had I saved by dying a year ago! [A noise without.] Oh! oh! dear Lappet! see what it is! I shall be undone in an hour-Oh!

Enter CLERIMONT, richly dressed.

Love. Oh, Lappet! what's the matter? Lap. Oh, sir! I am scarce able to tell you. It is spread about the town that you are married, and your wife's creditors are coming in whole

Cler. Don't you know me, sir?

Love. Know you! ha! what is the meaning of this?-Oh, it is plain, it is too plain; my money has paid for all this finery. Ah, base wretch! could I have suspected you of such an action, of lurking in my house to use me in such a manner?

Cler. Sir, I am come to confess the fact to you; and if you will but give me leave to reason with you, you will not find yourself so much injured as you imagine.

Love. Not injured! when you have stolen away my blood?

Cler. Your blood is not fallen into bad hands; I am a gentleman, sir.

Love. Here's impudence! a fellow robs me, and tells me he is a gentleman!—Tell me who tempted you to it?

Cler. Åh, sir! need I say-love.

Love. Love!

Cler. Yes, love, sir.

Love. Very pretty love, indeed! the love of my guineas.

Cler. Ah, sir, think not so. Do but grant me the free possession of what I have, and, by heaven, I'll never ask you more.

Love. Oh, most unequalled impudence! was ever so modest a request?

Cler. All your efforts to separate us will be vain; we have sworn never to forsake each other, and nothing but death can part us.

Love. I don't question, sir, the very great affection on your side; but I believe I shall find methods to recover————

Cler. By heavens I'll die in defending my right! and, if that were the case, think not, when I am gone, you ever could possess what you have robbed me of.

Love. Ha! that's true; he may find ways to prevent the restoring it.-Well, well, let me delight my eyes at least; let me see my treasure, and perhaps I may give it you, perhaps I may. Cler. Then I am blest! Well may you say

sand pounds, which an attorney is without to demand.

Love. Oh! oh! oh! let them cut my throat. Lap. Think what an escape you have had! think if you had married her

Love. I am as bad as married to her.

Lap. It is impossible, sir, nothing can be so bad: what, you are to pay her ten thousand pounds-Well-and ten thousand pounds are a sun; they are a sum, I own it-they are a sum; but what is such a sum compared with such a wife? had you married her, in one week you would have been in a prison, sir

Love. If I am, I can keep my money; they cann't take that from me.

Lap. Why, sir, you will lose twice the value of your contract before you know how to turn yourself; and if you have no value for liberty, yet consider, sir, such is the great goodness of our laws, that a prison is one of the dearest places you can live in.

Love. Ten thousand pounds!-No-I'll be hanged, I'll be hanged.

Lap. Suppose, sir, it were possible (not that I believe it is,) but suppose it were possible to make her abate a little; suppose one could bring her to eight thousand

Love. Eight thousand devils take her―

Lap. But, dear sir! consider, nay, consider immediately, for every minute you lose you lose a sum-Let me beg you, entreat you, my dear good master! let me prevail on you, not to be ruined. Be resolute, sir; consider every guinea you give saves you a score.

Love. Well, if she will consent to, to, to, eight hundred-But try, do try, if you can make her 'bate any thing of that-if you can-you shall have a twentieth part of what she 'bates for yourself.

Lap. Why, sir, if I could get you off at eight thousand, you ought to leap out of your skin for joy.

Love. Would I were out of my skin!—
Lap. You will have more reason to wish so

a penny.

Mar. And have you acquainted neither Frederick nor Harriet with my intentions?

Lap. Neither, I assure you. Ah, madam, had I not been able to have kept a secret, I had never brought about those affairs that I have: were I not secret, Lud have mercy upon many a virtuous woman's reputation in this town!

Mar. And don't you think I have kept my real intentions very secret ?

Lup. From every one but me I believe you have: I assure you I knew them long before you sent for me this afternoon to discover them to me. Mar. But could you bring him to no terms, no proposals? did he make no offer?

Lap. It must be done all at once, and while you are by.

Mar. So you think he must see me, to give any thing to be rid of me?

Lap. Hush, hush! I hear him coming again. Enter LOVEGOLD.

Love. I am undone! I am undone! I am eat up! I am devoured! I have an army of cooks in my house.

Lap. Dear madam! consider; I know eight thousand pounds are a trifle; I know they are nothing; my master can very well afford them; they will make no hole in his purse; and if you should stand out you will get more.

Love. [Putting his hand before LAPPET's mouth.] You lie, you lie, you lie, you lie, you lie : she never could get more, never should get more; it is more than I am worth; it is an immense sum; and I will be starved, drowned, shot, hanged, burnt, before I part with a penny of it.

Lap. For Heaven's sake, sir, you will ruin all -Madam, let me beg you, entreat you, to 'bate these two thousand pounds. Suppose a law-suit

should be the consequence, I know my master would be cast; I know it would cost him an immense sum of money, and that he would pay the charges of both in the end; but you might be kept out of it a long time. Eight thousand pounds now are better than ten five years hence.

Mar. No; the satisfaction of my revenge on a man who basely departs from his word will make me amends for the delay; and whatever I suffer, as long as I know his ruin will be the consequence, I shall be easy.

Love. Oh, bloody-minded wretch!

Lap. Why, sir, since she insists on it, what does it signify? You know you are in her power, and it will be only throwing away more money to be compelled to it at last; get rid of her at once; what are two thousand pounds? why, sir, the Court of Chancery will eat it up for a breakfast: it has been given for a mistress, and will you not give it to be rid of a wife?

[They whisper.

Enter THOMAS and JAMES.

[LOVEGOLD and LAPPET talk apart. Tho. Madam, the music are come which your ladyship ordered, and most of the company will be here immediately.

James. Where will your ladyship be pleased the servants shall eat, for there is no room in the house that will be large enough to entertain 'em. Mar. Then beat down the partition, and turn two rooms into one.

James. There is no service in the house proper for the dessert, madam.

Mar. Send immediately to the great china shop in the Strand for the finest that is there.

Love. How! and will you swear a robbery against her? that she robbed me of what I shall give her?

Lap. Depend on it, sir.

Love. I'll break open a bureau to make it look the more likely.

Lap. Do so, sir; but lose no time; give it her this moment.-Madam, my master has consented, and if you have the contract, he is ready to pay the money. Be sure to break open the bu reau, sir. [Aside.

Mar. Here is the contract. Love. I'll fetch the money: it is all I am worth in the world.

[Exit. Mar. Sure he will never be brought to it yet. Lap. I warrant him: but you are to pay dearer for it than you imagine, for I am to swear a robbery against you. What will you give me, madam, to buy off my evidence?

Mar. And is it possible that the old rogue would consent to such a villany?

Lap. Ay, madam; for half that sum he would hang half the town. But truly I can never be made amends for all the pains I have taken on your account. Were I to receive a single guinea a lie, for every one I have told this day, it would make me a pretty tolerable fortune. Ah, madam, what a pity it is that a woman of my excellent talents should be confined to so low a sphere of

life as I am! had I been born a great lady, what a deal of good should I have done in the world! Enter LOVEGOLD.

Love. Here, here they are-all in bank-notes all the money I am worth in the world-(I have sent for a constable; she must not go out of sight before we have her taken into custody.) [Aside to LAPPET. Lap. [To LOVEGOLD.] You have done very wisely. Mar. There, sir, is your contract. And now, sir, I have nothing to do but to make myself as easy as I can in my loss.

Enter FREDERICK, CLERIMONT, and HARRIET. Love. Where is that you promised me? where is my treasure?

Cler. Here, sir, is all the treasure I am worth; a treasure which the whole world's worth should not purchase.

Love. Give me the money, sir, give me the money; I say, give me the money you stole from me. Cler. I understand you not.

Love. Did you not confess you robbed me of my treasure?

Cler. This, sir, is the inestimable treasure I meant! Your daughter, sir, has this day blest me by making me her husband.

Love. How! oh, wicked, vile wretch! to run away thus with a pitiful mean fellow, thy father's clerk!

Cler. Think not your family disgraced, sir! I am at least your equal born; and though my fortune be not so large, as for my dearest Harriet's sake I wish, still it is such as will put it out of your power to make us miserable.

Love. Oh! my money, my money, my money! Fred. If this lady does not make you amends for the loss of your money, resign over all pretensions in her to me, and I will engage to get it restored to you.

Love. How, sirrah? are you a confederate? have you helped to rob me?

Fred. Softly, sir, or you shall never see your guineas again.

Love. I resign her over to you entirely, and may you both starve together! so, go fetch my gold

Mar. You are easily prevailed upon, I see, to resign a right which you have not. But were I to resign over myself, it would hardly be the man's fortune to starve, whose wife brought him ten thousand pounds.

Love. Bear witness, she has confessed she has the money, and I shall prove she stole it from me. She has broke open my bureau; Lappet is my

evidence.

have robbed yourself. This lady can only be a receiver of stolen goods, for I saw you give her the money with your own hands.

Love. How! I! you! what! what!

Lap. And I must own it, with shame I must own it-that the money you gave her in exchange for the contract I promised to swear she had stolen from you.

Cler. Is it possible Mr Lovegold could be capa ble of such an action as this?

Love. I am undone, undone, undone !

Fred. No, sir, your three thousand guineas are safe yet; depend upon it, within an hour you shall find them in the same place they were first deposited. I thought to have purchased a reprieve with them, but I find my fortune has of itself bestowed that on me.

Love. Give 'em me, give 'em me, this instant but then the ten thousand, where are they?

Mar. Where they ought to be, in the hands of one who I think deserves them. [Gives them to FREDERICK.] You see, sir, I had no design to the prejudice of your family: nay, I have proved the best friend you ever had; for I presume you are now thoroughly cured of your longing for a young wife.

Love. Sirrah! give me my notes, give me my notes.

Fred. You must excuse me, sir; I can part with nothing I receive from this lady.

Love. Then I will go to law with that lady and you, and all of you; for I will have them again, if law or justice, or injustice, will give them me.

Cler. Be pacified, sir; I think the lady has acted nobly in giving that back again into your family which she might have carried out of it.

Love. My family be hanged! If I am robbed, I don't care who robs me. I would as soon hang my son as another-and I will hang him if he does not restore me all I have lost: for I would not give half the sum to save the whole worldI will go and employ all the lawyers in town; for I will have my money again, or never sleep

Mar. Do you hear him? Har. Yes, and begin to approve him; for your late behaviour has convinced me

Mur. Dear girl! no more; you have frightened me already so much to-day, that, rather than venture a second lecture, I would do whatever you wished: so, sir, if I do bestow all on you, here is the lady you are to thank for it.

jured.

Love. A fig for her pardon! you are doing a right action.

Lap. Then if there were any robbery, you must

Mar. Dear Harriet! no apologies! all you said I deserved.

Enter LAPPET and RAMILIE. Lap. Treaties are going on on both sides, while you and I seem forgotten.

Ram. Why, have we not done them all the service we can? What farther have they to do with us?—Sir, there are some people in masquerading habits without.

Mar. Some I sent for to assist in my design on your father: I think we will give them admittance, though we have done without 'em.

Omnes. Oh! by all means.

Fred. Mrs Lappet, be assured I have a just sense of your favours, and both you and Ramilie shall find my gratitude. [Dance here.

Fred. Dear Clerimont! be satisfied I shall make

no peace with the old gentleman in which you shall not be included. I hope my sister will prove a fortune equal to your deserts.

more.

Cler. While I am enabled to support her in an affluence equal to her desires, I shall desire no From what I have seen lately, I think riches are rather to be feared than wished; at least I am sure avarice, which too often attends wealth, is a greater evil than any that is found in poverty. Misery is generally the end of all vice, but it is the very mark at which avarice seems to aim; the Miser endeavours to be wretched;

He hoards eternal cares within his purse, And what he wishes most, proves most his curse. [Exeunt.

OUR author's sure bewitch'd! the senseless rogue
Insists, no good play wants an epilogue.
Suppose that true, said I, What's that to this?
Is yours a good one?—No, but Moliere's is,
He cried, and, zounds! no epilogue was tack'd
to his.

Besides, your modern epilogues, said he,
Are but ragouts of smut and ribaldry,
Where the false jests are dwindled to so few,
There's scarce one double entendre left that's new;
Nor would I in that lovely circle raise
One blush to gain a thousand coxcombs' praise:
Then for the threadbare jokes of cit and wit,
Whose foreknown rhyme is echo'd from the pit,
Till of their laugh the galleries are bit;

Then to reproach the critics with ill-nature,
And charge their malice to his stinging satire,
And thence appealing to the nicer boxes,
Though talking stuff might dash the Drury doxies;
If these, he cried, the choice ingredients be
For epilogues, they shall have none from me.
Lord, sir! says I, the gallery will so bawl.
Let 'em, he cried; a bad one's worse than none
at all.

Madam, these things than you I'm more expert in,
Nor do I see no epilogue much hurt in.
Zounds! when the play is ended-drop the cur-
tain.

THE

BY

WHILE other culprits brave it to the last,
Nor beg for mercy till the judgment's past;
Poets alone, as conscious of their crimes,
Open their trials with imploring rhymes.
Thus cramm'd with flattery and low submission,
Each trite dull prologue is the bard's petition.
A stale device to calm the critic's fury,
And bribe at once the judges and the jury.

But what avail such poor repeated arts? The whimp'ring scribbler ne'er can touch your hearts;

Nor ought an ill-timed pity to take place—
Fast as they rise, destroy th' increasing race:
The vermin else will run the nation o'er-
By saving one you breed a million more.

Though disappointed authors rail and rage
At fancy'd parties, and a senseless age,
Yet still has justice triumph'd on the stage.
Thus speaks and thinks the author of to-day,
And, saying this, has little more to say.
He asks no friend his partial zeal to show,
Nor fears the groundless censures of a foe;
He knows no friendship can protect the fool,
Nor will an audience be a party's tool.
'Tis inconsistent with a free-born spirit,
To side with folly, or to injure merit.
By your decision he must fall or stand,

Nor, though he feels the lash, will blame the hand.