Honeyw. Was ever anything more unfortunate? It is too much to be endured.

Lofty. Unfortunate indeed! and yet I can endure it, till you have opened the affair to her for me. Between ourselves, I think she likes me I'm not apt to boast, but I think she does.

Honeyw. Indeed! But do you know the person you apply to? Lofty. Yes, I know you are her friend, and mine that's enough. To you, therefore, I commit the success of my passion. I'll say no more, let friendship do the rest. I have only to add, that if at any time my little interest can be of service-but, hang it, I'll make no promises-you know my interest is yours at any time. No apologies, my friend; I'll not be answered; it shall be so. (Exit.)

Honeyw. Open, generous, unsuspecting man! He little thinks that I love her too; and with such an ardent passion!—But then it was ever but a vain and hopeless one; my torment, my perse cution! What shall I do? Love, friendship, a hopeless passion, a deserving friend! Love, that has been my tormentor; a friend, that has, perhaps, distressed himself to serve me. It shall be so. Yes, I will discard the fondling hope from my bosom, and exert all my influence in his favour. And yet to see her in the possession of another!-Insupportable. But then to betray a generous, trust ing friend!-Worse, worse. Yes, I'm resolved. Let me but be the instrument of their happiness, and then quit a country where I must for ever despair of finding my own.

(Exit.)

Enter OLIVIA and GARNET, who carries a milliner's box. Olivia. Dear me, I wish this journey were over. No news of Jarvis yet? I believe the old peevish creature delays purely to

vex me.

Garnet. Why, to be sure, madam, I did hear him say, a little snubbing before marriage would teach you to bear it the better afterwards.

Olivia. To be gone a full hour, though he had 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.

Olivia. Well, let us be prepared for his coming, however. Are you sure you have omitted nothing, Garnet?

Garnet. Not a stick, madam-all's here. Yet I wish you could take the white and silver to be married in. It's the worst luck in the world, in anything 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. No matter--I'm all impatience till we are out of the house.

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. Ay, to Jericho; for we shall have no 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 do you send me on 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! how some people understand geography! We might as well set sail for Patagonia upon a cork jacket.

Olivia. Such a disappointment! What a base insincere mar 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' 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 gu neas from his father just before he set out, and he can't yet have left the inn. A short letter will reach him there.

Olivia. Well remembered, Garnet; I'll write immediately. How's this? Bless me, my hand trembles so I can't write a word. Do you write, Garnet; and, upon second thought, it will be better from you.

Garnet. Truly, madam, I write and indite but poorly: I never was cute at my larning. But 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.

Garnet. At the bar of the Talbot till called for. Expeditionwill be blown up-All of a flame-Quick, despatch-Cupid, the little God of Love-I conclude it, madam, with Cupid; I love to see a love-letter end like poctry.

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

Garnet. Odso, madam, Mr Honeywood's butler is in the next room; he's a dear, sweet man; he'll do anything for me.

Jarvis. He the dog, he'll certainly commit some 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 You may take up the things, and carry Have you no hands, Jarvis?

more to interrupt us. them on to the inn.

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 we are about, must elope methodically, madam. 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 make 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 saia 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, and is this moment reading it to himself in the hall.

Olivia.

Unfortunate! we shall be discovered.

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

Olivia. Then let us leave the house this instant, for fear he should ask farther questions. In the mean time, Garnet, do you write and send off just such another. (Exeunt.)