But tell me what you would have me do. What does the world say of me, and my forced confinement?

Scan. The world behaves itself as it used to do on such occasions. Some pity you, and condemn your father; others excuse him, and blame you: only the ladies are merciful, and wish you well; since love and pleasurable expense have been your greatest faults. Re-enter JEREMY.

Val. How now?

Jer. Nothing new, sir. I have dispatched some half a dozen duns with as much dexterity as an hungry judge does causes at dinner-time.

Val. What answer have you given them?

Scan. Patience, I suppose the old receipt!

Jer. No, faith, sir: I have put them off so long with patience and forbearance, and other fair words, that I was forced to tell them in plain downright EnglishVal. What?

Jer. That they should be paid.

Val. When?

Jer. To-morrow.

Val. And how the devil do you mean to keep your word?

Jer. Keep it? Not at all: it has been so very much stretched, that I reckon it will break of course by tomorrow, and nobody be surprised at the matter! [A Knocking] Again!—Sir, if you don't like my negociation, will you be pleased to answer these yourself?

Val. See who they are. [Exit Jeremy] By this, Scandal, you may see what it is to be great. Secretaries of state, presidents of the council, and generals of an army, lead just such a life as I do; have just such crowds of visitants in a morning, all soliciting of past promises; which are but a civiler sort of duns, that lay claim to voluntary debts.

Re-enter JEREMY.

Jer. O, sir, there's Trapland, the scrivener, with two suspicious fellows, like lawful pads, that would knock a man down with pocket tipstaves!—And there's your

ง

father's steward; and the nurse, with one of your children, from Twit'nam.

Val. Plague on her! could she find no other time to fling my sins in my face! Here! give her this, [Gives Money] and bid her trouble me no more. Bid Trapland come in. If I can give that Cerberus a sop, I shall be at rest for one day. [Exit Jeremy.

Re-enter JEREMY, with TRAPLAND. O, Mr. Trapland! my old friend! welcome.-Jeremy, a chair quickly: a bottle of sack and a toast-fly—a chair first.

Trap. A good morning to you, Mr. Valentine; and to you, Mr. Scandal.

Scan. The morning's a very good morning, if you don't spoil it.

Val. Come, sit you down; you know his way.

Trap. [Sits] There is a debt, Mr. Valentine, of fifteen hundred pounds, of pretty long standing——

Val. I cannot talk about business with a thirsty palate.-Sirrab! the sack!

Trap. And I desire to know what course you have taken for the payment?

Val. Faith and troth, I am heartily glad to see youmy service to you! Fill, fill to honest Mr. Trapland-fuller!

Trap. Hold! sweetheart-this is not our business.My service to you, Mr. Scandal! [Drinks] I have forborne as long

Val. T'other glass, and then we'll talk. Fill, Jeremy. Trap. No more, in truth. I have forborne, I say— Val. Sirrah! fill, when I bid you. And how does your handsome daughter?-Come, a good husband to her! [Drinks. Trap. Thank you.-I have been out of this moneyVal. Drink first. Scandal, why do you not drink? [They drink. Trap. And, in short, I can be put off no longer. Val. I was much obliged to you for your supply: it did me signal service in my necessity. But you delight

in doing good. Scandal, drink to me my friend Trapland's health. An honester man lives not, nor one more ready to serve his friend in distress, though I say it to his face. Come, fill each man his glass.

Scan. What? I know Trapland has been a rake, and loves a wench still. You never knew a rake that was not an honest fellow.

Trap. Fie, Mr. Scandal; you never knew——

Scan. What don't I know?-I know the buxom black widow in the Poultry-eight hundred pounds a year jointure, and twenty thousand pounds in mouey.Ahah! old Trap!

Val. Say you so, i'faith? Come, we'll remember the widow-I know whereabouts you are-come, to the widow.

Trap. No more indeed.

Val. What! the widow's health?-off with it. [They drink] A lovely girl, i'faith; black, sparkling eyes; soft, pouting, ruby lips! Better sealing there, than a bond for a million, ha!

Trap. Verily, give me another glass-you're a wag -and here's to the widow.

[Drinks. Scan. He begins to chuckle-ply him close, or he'll elapse into a dun. [Apart to Val.

Enter an Officer.

Offi. By your leave, gentlemen.--Mr. Trapland, ifwe must do our office, tell us. We have half a dozen gentlemen to arrest in Pall-mall and Covent-garden; and if we don't make haste, the chairmen will be abroad, and block up the chocolate-houses; and then our labour's lost.

Re-enter JEREMY.

Trap. Odso, that's true.—Mr. Valentine, I love mirth; but business must be done. Are you ready to-

Jer. Sir, your father's steward says he comes to make proposals concerning your debts.

Val. Mr. Trapland, send away your officer; you shall have an answer presently.

Trap. Mr. Snap, stay within call.

[Exit Officer.

Enter Steward, who whispers to VALENTINE. Scan. Here's a dog now, a traitor in his wine! Sirrah, refund the sack. Jeremy, fetch him some warm water; or I'll rip up his stomach, and go the shortest way to his conscience.

Trap. Mr. Scandal, you are uncivil. I did not value your sack; but you cannot expect it again, when [ have drunk it.

Scan. And how do you expect to have your money again, when a gentleman has spent it?

Val. You need say no more. I understand the conditions; they are very hard, but my necessity is very pressing: I agree to them. Take Mr. Trapland with you, and let him draw the writing. [To Steward] Mr. Trapland, you know this man; he shall satisfy you. Trup. Sincerely, I am loath to be thus pressing; but my necessity-▬

Val. No apology, good Mr. Scrivener; you shall be paid.

Trap. I hope you forgive me; my business requires [Exeunt Trapland, Steward, and Jeremy. Scan. He begs pardon like a hangman at an execu

tion.

Val. But I have got a reprieve.

Scan. I am surprised; what, does your father relent? Val. No; he has sent me the hardest conditions in the world. You have heard of a booby, brother of mine, that was sent to sea three years ago? This brother, my father hears, is landed; whereupon he very affectionately sends me word, "If I will make a deed of conveyance of my right to his estate after his death to my younger brother, he will immediately furnish me with four thousand pounds, to pay my debts, and make my fortune." This was once proposed before, and 1 refused it; but the present impatience of my creditors for their money, and my own impatience of confinement, and absence from Angelica, force me to consent. Scan. A very desperate demonstration of your love to Angelica! and I think she has never given you any assurance of hers.

Val. You know her temper; she never gave me any great reason either for hope or despair.

Scan. Women of her airy temper, as they seldom think before they act, so they rarely give us any light to guess at what they mean: but you have little reason to believe that a woman of this age, who has had an indifference for you in your prosperity, will fall in love with your ill fortune. Besides, Angelica has a great fortune of her own; and great fortunes either expect another great fortune or a fool.

Re-enter JEREMY.

Jer. More misfortunes, sir.

Val. What, another dun?

Jer. No, sir; but Mr. Tattle is come to wait upon you.

Val. Well, I cannot help it-you must bring him up; he knows I don't go abroad. [Exit Jeremy.

Scan. Plague on him, I'll be gone.

Val. No, pr'ythee stay: Tattle and you should never be asunder; you are light and shadow, and show one another. He is perfectly thy reverse both in humour and understanding; and as you set up for defamation, he is a mender of reputations.

Scan. A mender of reputations! ay, just as he is a keeper of secrets, another virtue that he sets up for in the same manner. For the rogue will speak aloud in the posture of a whisper, and deny a woman's name, while he gives you the marks of her person. He will forswear receiving a letter from her, and at the same time show you her hand in the superscription; and yet perhaps he has counterfeited her hand too, and sworn to a truth. In short, he is a public professor of secrecy, and makes proclamation that he holds private intelligence. He is here.

Enter TATTLE.

Tat. Valentine, good morrow: Scandal, I am yours -that is, when you speak well of me.

Scan. That is, when I am yours; for while I am my own, or any body's else, that will never happen.