uncle is dead, and has left him sole heir. Our books, too, have been examined, and exceed our best hopes. Harry. My

[ing it.)

Dornton. Here is your money, madam. (OfferHarry. My father saved-? Tol de rol! Widow. Nay but-Mr. Dornton !-sir!-(Ready to cry.)

Dornton. I must beg you will take it. Harry. Rejoice, widow! Rejoice! Sing, shout! Tol de rol!

Widow. I do not want the money, sir! Filthy money-(Whimpering restrained.) And as to what I said, though you have arrested Mr. MilfordHarry. Ha! (Starts, consirs and looks at his watch.). [Mr. Dornton

Widow. I am sorry-I beg your pardon-And if Dornton. Why don't you speak, Harry? Where are you going? (Harry Dornton crosses hastily.) Come back, Harry!-Stay, I say!

Harry. I cannot stay!-I must fly!-My honour is at stake.

Exit. Dornton. (Alarmed.) His honour!-His honour at stake!-Here, here, madam!-(Offering money.) Widow. Nay, sir

Dornton. 'Sdeath, madam, take your money.

[Exit.

Widow. Cruel-usage!-Faithless men-BlindStupid! "I'll forsake and forswear the whole sex. (Bursts into tears.)

Enter JENNY, with great glee, on tip-toe, as if she had been on the watch.

Jenny. Ma'am ma'am! Mr. Goldfinch, ma'am ! Widow. Hey! Mr Goldfinch?-Was that what you said, Jenny? (Brightens up.) Where?

Jenny. Below, ma'am. I persuaded him to come up, but he is quite surly.

Widow. Oh he is coming? Well! I think I will see him-Yes-I think I will [for me. Jenny. I always told you, ma'am, Mr. Goldfinch Widow. Did you?

Jenny. But he says he will have your written promise this very night, or never speak to you more. I hear him. (Adjusting the Widow's dress.) La, ma'am, you had better give a few touches hereabout. Your eyes will have double the spirit and fire.

(Returning.)

Widow. Barbarous youth: could you leave me? but I must send to Mr. Silky.

Gold. No, no; let me have the promise directly. I'll o myself to Silky.

Widow. Will you, Mr. Goldfinch?

Gold. Will I not? Take a hack, mount the box. Hayait! Scud away for the old scoundrel. I'm a deep one; know the course every inch. I'm the lad for the widow. That's your sort!

Widow. Saucy man; I'll be very angry with you.
Gold. Soon be back.

Widow. Adieu! Fly swiftly, ye minutes.
Gold. But I must have the promise first.
Widow. I will go and write it. Come, dissembler,
[Exit languishing.

come.

Enter MILFORD.

Milford. So, Charles; where's the widow? Gold. The widow's mine.

Milford. Yours?

Gold. I'm the lad; all's concluded; going post for old Silky. (Offers to go at every speech, but is eagerly stopped by Milford.)

Milford. Silky did you say?

Gold. I'm to pay the miserly rascal fifty thousand pounds down. But mum: that's a secret. Milford. You are raving.

Gold. Tellee, he has her on the hip; she can't marry without his consent. Milford. But why? Gold. Don't know. The close old rogue won't tell. Has got some deed, he says. Some writing. Milford. Indeed!

Gold. Yes; but it's a secret. I shall be a higher fellow than ever, Jack. Go to the second spring meeting-take you with me-come down a few to the sweaters and trainers-the knowing ones-the lads. Get into the secret-lay it on thick-seven hundred to five Favourite against the field. Done! I'll do it again! Done! Five times over. Ditto repeated. Done, done. Off they go!- winner lays by-pretends to want foot-Odds rise hightake 'em-winner whispered lame-lags afterodds higher-and higher. Take 'em-creeps up breathes 'em over the flat-works 'em up hillpasses the distance post-etill only second-betting

chair in an uproar-neck to reck-lets him out -shows him the whip-shoots by like an arrow -oh! d-e a hollow thing. That's your sort!

[Exit. Milford. Fifty thousand to Silky for his consent because of some instrument, some writing? If it should be the-? It must; by heaven, it must. [Exit hastily.

SCENE IL-The Ring in Hyde Park. Enter HARRY DORNTON, looking at his watch. Harry. How long must I wait? I see nothing of Milford; I'll cut off that bailiff s ears if he has betrayed me. (Walks about.)

Enter MR. DORNTON out of breath.

Dornton. So, Harry.
Harry. My father again.

Dornton. (Panting.) What do you do here, Harry? Harry. Sir-I-I want air.

Dornton. So do I; a pretty dance you have led me. What brought you hither? (Sudden recollection.) Wher's the money you had of the widow? (Pause; seeming to dread an answer.) Where is the money, Harry?

Harry. (Reluctantly.) Gone, sir.
Dornton. Gone!

Harry. Most of it.

Dornton. And your creditors not paid? (Another pause.) And your creditors not paid?

Harry. No, sir.

Dornton. I suspected-I forcboded this. (Harry Dornton walks up the stage.) He has been at some gaming-house, lost all, quarrelled, and come here to put a miserable end to a miserable existence. Oh! who would be a father! (With extreme anguish.)

[Exit.

Harry. (Advancing.) It is for me, sir. Dornton. How do you know, Harry? Harry. Sir, I am certain. I must begDornton. This is no time for ceremony. (Reads.) Dear Harry, forgive the provocation I have given you; forgive the wrong I have done your father.-Me!-1 will submit to any disgrace rather than lift my hand again t your life. I would have come and apologised even on my knees, but am prevented.

J. MILFORD. (Stands a moment, crumpling the letter.) Why, Harry! What? What is this? Tell me, tell me. It is in paying Milford's debts you have expended Harry. It is, sir. [the money? Dornton. (Af er raising his clasped hands in rapture, as if to return thanks, suddenly suppresses his feelings.) But how had he wronged me? Why did you come here to fight him?

Harry. Sir-He-he spoke disrespectfully of you (A pause) Dornton. (With his eys fired on his son, till unable any long r to contain him elf he covers them with one hand and stretches out the other.) Harry!

Harry. (Taking his father's hand but turning his back like. ise to conceal his agitation.) My father! Dornton. Harry! Harry! (With struggling affection.) (A pause.) [ford. Harry. Dear sir, let us fly to console poor Mil

Dornton. What you will, Harry; do with me what you will. Oh! who would not be a father! [Exeunt

SCENE IIL-The House of the Widow Warren.

Enter MILFORD and MR. SULKY. Milford. The fool, Goldfinch himself, informed me, sir, that Silky is to receive fifty thousand pounds for his consent,

Sulky. Fifty thousand! Zounds! Why then the old scoundrel must have got possession of the will.

Milford. Which is indubitably meant to be destroyed. Goldfinch is just returned with Silky. They are now with the widow, all in high glee, and are coming up here immediately, no doubt to settle the business in private.

Sulky. What can be done?

Milford. We must hide ourselves somewhere, and spring upon them.

Sulky. I hate hiding; it's deceit, and deceit is the resource of a rascal.

Milford. But there is no avoiding it. We cannot get legal assistance in time. Here are two closets, do you go into one, and I'll shut myself up in the other. We shall hear what they are about, and can burst upon them at the proper moment. Sulky. Well, if it must be so; but it's a vile, paltry refuge.

Milford. I hear them coming; make haste. [Exeunt Sulky and Milford into the closets. Enter SILKY, WIDOW, and GOLDFINCH. Sil. Ha, ha, ha! I told you, madam, I should hear from you when you wanted me; I knew it must come to that. But you are a lucky man,. Mr. Goldfinch, and I'm a lucky man; ay, and you are a lucky woman too, madam. We are all in luck.

Gold. Ay, d-e, old one, you have been concerned in many a good thing in your time.

Sil. Ah, ha, ha, ha, ha! To be sure I have. I must provide for my family, Mr. Goldfinch.

Widow. It is indeed a fortunate event. Do you not participate my raptures, Mr. Goldfinch?

Gold. To be sure: it's a deep scheme; it's knowing a thing or two; eh, old one? Pigeoning the greenhorns.

Sil. All so safe, too, so snug. I am so pleased, and so happy; it's all our own; not a soul will know of it but our three selves.

Gold. Oh, yes; one more, old one.
Sil. (Alarmed) Ay, who? who?
Gold. Your father; Belzebub.

Sil. Lord! Mr. Goldfinch, don't terrify me. Widow. To be sure, it must be owned you are a shocking old rogue, Mr. Silky. But there is no doing without you. So make haste with your deeds and your extortions; for really we should be very glad to be rid of your company.

Sil. Well, well, I'm ready; I'll not long interrupt you amorous haste. I am a man of business; I expected how it would be, and have a legal instrument here, ready drawn up by my own hand; which, when it is signed and sealed, will make all Widow. But where is the will? [safe.

Sil. Oh, I have it. First, however, let us be secure. (Locks both the chamber doors, is going to read, but looks round, sees the closet doors, and with great anxiety and cunning locks them too.)

Gold. You're an old trader in sin. There's no being too deep for you. [finch? Sil. Ah, ha, ha, ha! Do you think so, Mr. GoldGold. But I should like to see you on your death(A blow from one of the closets.) Sil. Bless my soul! What's that?

bed.

Gold. Zounds! odd enough. I believe he's coming for you before your time.

Widow. It was very strange.

Sil. I declare I am all of a tremble! Widow. Come, come, let us get the shocking business over. Where is the will?

Gold. Don't shake so, man.

Sil. Well, well. First sign the bond. (Widow and Goldfinch going to sign, another knock heard.) Lord have mercy upon me!

Gold. I smell sulphur.

Widow. Save me, Mr. Goldfinch.

Sil. The candles burn blue. (A pause.)

Gold. Psha! Zounds, it's only some cat in the Sil. I heard it in both the closets. [closet. Gold. Why then there are two cats. Come, I'll sign.-(Widow and Goldfinch sign the bond.) Sil. Where's the promise?

Gold. Here it is. (Laying it on the table.) Sil. And here is the will, which, that all may be safe, we will immediately commit to the flames. (Is going to burn it at the candle; four successive loud knocks are heard, one from each of the doors. Silky starts, drops one candle, and overturns the other.) Lord have mercy upon us!

Gold. My hair stands on end.

Widow. (Violent knocking at both closets, and at the doors.) Save me, Mr. Goldfinch! Protect me! Ah! (Shrieks. Sulky and Milford burst open the closets, and seize on the bond and promise, then open the chamber doors.)

Enter JENNY, with lights, and SOPHIA, HARRY DORNTON, and MR. DORNTON.

Sophia. Dear, may what's the matter?

Sulky. Where is the will? (Silky recovers himself, and snatches it up.) Give it me, you old scoundrel! Give it me this instant, or I'll throttle you! (Wrests it from him.)

Milford. So, gentlemen. You are a pretty pair of Sulky. And you are a very worthy lady. [knaves. Widow. Don't talk to me, man! Don't talk to me! I shall never recover my senses again.

Harry. What has happened, gentlemen? How came you thus all locked up together?

Dornton. Are you here, Mr. Silky!

Sulky. Yes; there's the honest, grateful, friendly Mr. Silky! who would betray his friends, plunder the living, and defraud the dead, for the ease of his Conscience, and to provide for his family.

Gold. Old one! You're done up!

Sulky. And here is the girlish old coquette, who would rob her daughter, and leave her husband's son to rot in a dungeon, that she might marry the first fool she could find.

Gold. Widow! you are dished. (Sulky examines the will.) Lost your last chance.

Dornton. A broken gamester, nurtured in idleness, ignorance, and dissipation; whose ridings, racings, and drivings are over, and whose whole train of horses, dogs, curricles, phaetons, and fooleries must come to the hammer immediately, is no Sophia. Oh, la! [great loss.

Dornton, I knew your father, sir: 'tis happy for him that he is dead; if you will forsake these courses and apply to trade-(Gold. starts from the table.)

Gold. Damn trade! Who's for the spring meeting? Cross 'em and wind 'em! Seven to five you don't name the winner! I'm for life and a curricle! A cut at the caster, and the long odds! Damn trade. The four aces, a back hand, and a lucky nick! I'm a deep one! That's your sort. [Exit.

Sulky. And now, madam

Widow. Keep off, monster! You smell of malice, cruelty, and persecution.

Sulky. No, madam: I smell of honesty. A drug you nauseate, but with which you must forcibly be dosed! I have glanced over the will, and find I have the power.

Widow. Let me go, goblin! You are a hideous person, and I hate the sight of you! Your breast is flint. Flint! Unfeeling Gorgon, and I abominate you. [Exit.

Sophia. Nay, you are a kind, good cross old soul; and I am sure you will forgive my poor ma'. We ought all to forget and forgive. Ought not we, Mr. Dornton?

Harrg. (With rapture, and looking to his father.) Do you hear her, sir?

Dornton Harry has told me of your innocent, pure, and unsuspecting heart. I love you for having called me an ugly monster.

Sophia. (To Harry), La! Mr. Dornton, how could you

Sulky. Harry, give me your hand. You have a generous and a noble hature; but your generosity would have proved more pernicious than even your dissipation. No misfortunes, no not the beggary and ruin of a father, could justify so unprincipled a marriage.

Dornton. And now (to Mr. Sulky.) my friend!
Milford. My father!

Harry. My

Sulky. Who! if you wish to get another word from me to-night, have done. (Turning to Silky.) I hate fawning.

Sil. Ah, Mr. Sulky! you will have your humour. Sulky. The undiscriminating generosity of this young man supported you in your day of distress; for which, serpent-like, you turned to sting yʊur preserver.

Sil. Ah! you will have your humour.

Sulky. Yes; and it is my humour to see that your villany shall be exposed in its true colours. Hypocrisy, falsehood, and fraud, are your familiars. To screen your avarice, you made it believed that this gentleman had been the cause of lodging the detainers, and had done the dirty work of which even you were ashamed. But the creditors shall receive their full demand.

Dornton. The proposal is just. Listen to that worthy man; and if you can, be honest with a good grace. Every thing will then be readily adjusted,. and I hope to the satisfaction of all parties. [Exeunt omnes.

ACT L

SCENE 1-The Street.

ORIANA

BISARRE.

LAMORCE.

abroad, but he's too cunning for a domestic; F must dispose of him some way else. Who's here? Old Mirabel, and my sister!-my dearest sister! Enter OLD MIRABEL and ORIANA. Oriana. My brother! Welcome!

Dug. Monsieur Mirabel, I'm heartily glad to see you.

Old Mir. Honest Mr. Dugard, by the blood of the Mirabels! I'm your most humble servant.

Dug. Why, sir, you've cast your skin, sure; you're brisk and gay; lusty health about you; no sign of age, but your silver hairs.

Old Mir. Silver hairs! Then they are quicksilver hairs, sir. Whilst I have golden pockets, let my hairs be silver, an' they will. Adsbud! sir, F can dance, and sing, and drink, and-no, I can't wench. But Mr. Dugard, no news of my son Bob in all your travels?

Dug. Your son's come home, sir.

Old Mir. Come home? Bob come home? By the blood of the Mirabels! Mr. Dugard, what say you? Oriana. Mr. Mirabel returned, sir?

Dug. He's certainly come, and you may see him within this hour or two. [it. Old Mir. Swear it, Mr. Dugard, presently swear Dug. Sir, he came to town with me this morning. I left him at the baigneur's being a little disordered after riding, and I shall see him again presently.

Old Mir. What! and he was ashamed to ask a blessing with his boots on! A nice dog! Well, and how fares the young rogue, eh?

Dug. A fine gentleman, sir; he'll be his own messenger.

Old Mir. A fine gentleman! But is the rogue like me still?

Dug. Why, yes, sir; he's very like his mother, and as like you, as modern sons are to their fathers. [him? Old Mir. Why, sir, don't you think that I begat Dug. Why, yes, sir; you married his mother, and he inherits your estate. He's very like you, upon my word.

Oriana. And pray, brother, what's become of his honest companion, Duretete?

Dug. Who, the Captain? The very same, he went abroad; he's the only Frenchman I ever knew, that could not change. Your son, Mr. Mirabel, is more obliged to nature for that fellow's composition, than for his own: for he's more happy in Duretete's folly than his own wit. In short, they are as inseparable as finger and thumb; but the first instance in the world, I believe, of opposition in friendship. [think ye? Old Mir. Very well: will he be home to dinner, Dug. Sir, he has ordered me to bespeak a dinner, for us at Rousseau's, at a louis d'or a head.

Old Mir. A louis d'or a head! Well said, Bob. By the blood of the Mirabels! Bob's improved. But, Mr. Dugard, was it so civil of Bob, to visit Monsieur Rousseau before his own natural father, eh? Harkee, Oriana, what think you now of a fellow that can eat and drink ye a whole louis d'or at a sitting? He must be as strong as Hercules; life and spirit in abundance. Before gad, I don't wonder at these men of quality, that their own wives can't serve them! A louis d'or a head! 'tis enough to stock the whole nation with bastards; 't's, faith! Mr. Dugard, I leave you with your [Exit. Duy. Well, sister, I need not ask you how you do, your looks resolve me; fair, tall, well-shaped; you're almost grown out of my remembrance.

sister.

Oriana. Why, truly, brother, I look pretty well, thank nature, and my toilet; I eat three men's a day, am very merry when up, and sleep soundly when I'm down.

without scandal or reproach; we make much of the old gentleman between us, and he takes care of us; all the week we dance and sing, and upon Sundays, we go first to church, and then to the play. Now, brother, besides these motives for choosing this gentleman as my guardian, perhaps I had some private reasons.

Dug. Not so private as you imagine, sister; your love to young Mirabel is no secret, I can assure you; but so public, that all your friends are ashamed on't.

Oriana. O' my word, then, my friends are very bashful; though I'm afraid, sir, that those people. are not ashamed enough at their own crimes, who have so many blushes to spare for the faults of their neighbours.

Dug. Ay, but, sister, the people say

Oriana. Psha! hang the people! they'll talk treason and profane their maker; must we, therefore, infer, that our king is a tyrant, and religion a cheat? Lookye, brother; their court of inquiry is a tavern, and their informer, claret; they think as they drink, and swallow reputations like loaches; a lady's health goes briskly round with the glass, but her honour is lost in the toast.

Dug. Ay, but, sister, there is still somethingOriana. If there be something, brother, 'tis none of the people's something: marriage is my thing, and I'll stick to't.

Dug. Marriage! young Mirabel marry! he'll build churches sooner. Take heed, sister, though your honour stood proof to his home-bred assaults, you must keep a stricter guard for the future: he has now got the foreign air, and the Italian softness; his wit's improved by converse, his behaviour finished by observation, and his assurance confirmed by success. Sister, I can assure you he has made his conquests; and 'tis a plague upon your sex, to be the soonest deceived by those very men that you know have been false to others. But then, sister, he's as fickle

Oriana. For God's sake, brother, tell me no more of his faults, for if you do, I shall run mad for him: say no more, sir; let me but get him into the bands of matrimony, I'll spoil his wandering, I warrant him; I'll do his business that way, never fear.

Dug. Well, sister, I won't pretend to understand the engagements between you and your lover; I expect when you have need of my counsel or assistance, you will let me know more of your affairs. Mirabel is a gentleman, and as far as my honour and interest can reach, you may command me to the furtherance of your happiness in the meantime, stster, I have a great mind to make you a present of another humble servant; a fellow that took up at Lyons, who has served me honestly

ever since.

Oriana. Then why will you part with him?

Oriana. Lookye, brother, you were going a rambling, and 'twas proper, lest I should go a rambling too, that somebody should take care of me. Old Monsieur Mirabel is an honest gentleman, was our father's friend, and has a young lady in his house, whose company I like, and who has chosen him for her guardian as well as I.

Dug. Who, Mademoiselle Bisarre ?

Oriana. The same: we lived merrily together,

Enter PETIT.

Well, sir, have you been at Rousseau's?

Petit. Yes, sir; and who should I find there but Mr. Mirabel and the Captain, hatching as warmly over a tub of ice, as two hen-pheasants over a brood. They would not let me bespeak anything, for they had dined before I came.

Duy. Come, sir, you shall serve my sister; 1 shall still continue kind to you; and if your lady recommends your diligence upon trial, I'll use my interest to advance you. Wait on your lady home, Petit.

[Exit