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Lady True. I keep him for my steward, and not my companion. He's a sober man.

Tin. Yes, yes; he looks like a put, a queer old dog, as ever I saw in my life: we must turn him off, widow. He cheats thee confoundedly, I see that.

Lady True. Indeed you're mistaken; he has always had the reputation of being a very honest

man.

Tin. What! I suppose he goes to church? Lady True. Goes to church! so do you, too, I hope.

Tin. I would, for once, widow, to make sure of you.

Lady True. Ah, Mr Tinsel! a husband, who would not continue to go thither, would quickly | forget the promise he made there.

Tin. Faith, very innocent, and very ridiculous! Well, then, I warrant thee, widow, thou wouldst not, for the world, marry a sabbath-breaker!

Lady True. Truly, they generally come to a bad end. I remember the conjurer told you, you were short-lived.

Tin. The conjurer! Ha, ha, ha!

Lady True. Indeed, you're very witty!

Tin. Thou art the idol I adore: here must I pay my devotion-Prithee, widow, hast thou any timber upon thy estate?

Lady True. The most impudent fellow I ever met with! [Aside. Tin. I take notice thou hast a great deal of old plate here in the house, widow.

Lady True. Mr Tinsel, you are a very observing man.

Tin. Thy large silver cistern would make a very good coach: and half a dozen salvers, that I saw on the sideboard, might be turned into six as pretty horses as any that appear in the ring.

Lady True. You have a very good fancy, Mr Tinsel! What pretty transformations you could make in my house!But I'll see where 'twill end.

find you have taken a great affection to my move

ables.

Tin. My dear, I love every thing that belongs to you.

Lady True. I see you do, sir; you need not make any protestations upon that subject.

Tin. Pho, pho, my dear, we are growing serious; and, let me tell you, that's the very next step to being dull.

Lady True. Believe me, sir, whatever you think, marriage is a serious subject.

Tin. For that very reason, my dear, let us run over it as fast as we can. I'll tell you a story, widow: I know a certain lady, who, considering the craziness of her husband, had, in case of mortality, engaged herself to two young fellows of my acquaintance. They grew such desperate rivals for her, while her husband was alive, that one of them pinked the other in a duel. But the good lady was no sooner a widow, but what did my dowager do? Why, faith, being a woman of honour, she married a third, to whom, it seems, she had given her first promise.

Lady True. And this is a true story, upon your own knowledge?

Tin. Every tittle, as I hope to be married, or never believe Tom Tinsel.

Lady True. Pray, Mr Tinsel, do you call this talking like a wit, or like a rake?

Tin. Nay, now you grow vapourish; thou❜lt begin to fancy thou hearest the drum, by and by.

Lady True. If you had been here last night, about this time, you would not have been so merry.

Tin. About this time, say'st thou! Come, faith, for humour's sake, we'll sit down and lis

ten.

Lady True. I will, if you'll promise to be serious.

Tin. Serious! never fear me, child; ha, ha, [Aside.ha! Dost not hear him ?

Tin. Then, I observe, child, you have two or three services of gilt plate; we'd eat always in china, my dear.

Lady True. You break your word already. Tin. I'll tell thee what, now, widow-I would engage, by the help of a white sheet, and a penLady True. I perceive you are an excellentnyworth of link, in a dark night, to frighten you manager-How quickly you have taken an inventory of my goods!

Tin. Now, hark ye, widow; to shew you the love that I have for you-

Lady True. Very well; let me hear.

a whole country village out of their senses, and the vicar into the bargain.-[Drum_beats.]— Hark! Hark! What noise is that? Heaven defend us! This is more than fancy.

Lady True. It beats more terrible than

Tin. You have an old-fashioned gold caudle-ever. cup, with a figure of a saint upon the lid on't. Lady True. I have-What, then?

Tin. Why, look ye, I'd sell the caudle-cup with the old saint, for as much money as they'd

Tin. 'Tis very dreadful! What a dog have I been, to speak against my conscience, only to shew my parts!

Lady True. It comes nearer and nearer. İ fetch; which I would convert into a diamond-wish you have not angered it, by your foolish disbuckle, and make you a present of it.

Lady True. Oh, you are generous to an extravagance! But, pray, Mr Tinsel, don't dispose of my goods before you are sure of my person. I

course.

Tin. Indeed, madam, I did not speak from my heart. I hope it will do me no hurt, for a little harmless raillery.

Lady True. Harmless, d'ye call it? It beats bard by us, as if it would break through the

wall.

Tin. What a devil had I to do with a white sheet?

[Scene opens, and discovers FANTOME.

love in this house any more. I have now only the conjurer to deal with. I don't question but I shall make his reverence scamper as fast as the lover; and then the day's my own. But the servants are coming; I must get into my cup-board. [He goes in.

Enter ABIGAIL and Servants.

Abi. Oh, my poor lady! This wicked drum has frighted Mr Tinsel out of his wits, and my lady into a swoon. Let me bend her a little forward

Mercy on us, it appears! Lady True. Oh, 'tis he! 'tis he himself! 'tis sir George! 'tis my husband! [She faints. Tin. Now, would I give ten thousand pounds that I were in town.-[FANTOME advances to him, drumming.]—I beg ten thousand pardons I'll never talk at this rate any more. [FANTOME-She revives-Here, carry her into the fresh still advances, drumming.-By my soul, sir George, I was not in earnest.-[Falls on his knees. Have compassion on my youth, and consider I am but a coxcomb.-[FANTOME points to the door.]-But see, he waves me off-Aye, with all my heart- -What a devil had I to do with a white sheet?

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air, and she'll recover.-[They carry her off]-This is a little barbarous to my lady; but 'tis all for her good and I know her so well, that she would not be angry with me, if she knew what I was to get by it. And, if any of her friends should blame me for it hereafter,

I'll clap my hand upon my purse, and tell 'em, 'Twas for a thousand pounds, and Mr Vellum. [Exit.

ACT V.

Enter SIR GEORGE in his conjurer's habit; the Butler marching before him, with two large candles; and the two Servants coming after him, one bringing a little table, and another a chair.

But. AN'T please your worship, Mr Conjurer, the steward has given all of us orders to do whatsoever you shall bid us, and to pay you the same respect as if you were our master.

Sir Geo. Thou say'st well.

know I went with you last night into the garden, when the cook-maid wanted a handful of parsley. But. Why, you don't think I'll stay with the conjurer by myself?

Gard. Come, we'll all three go, and fetch the pen and ink together.

[Exeunt Servants. Sir Geo. There's nothing, I see, makes such strong alliances as fear. These fellows are all entered into a confederacy against the ghost.There must be abundance of business done in the family, at this rate. But here comes the triple-alliance. Who could have thought these

Gard. An't please your conjurership's worship, three rogues could have found each of them au shall I set the table down here?

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employment in fetching a pen and ink?

Enter Gardener with a sheet of paper, Coach-
man with a standish, and Butler with a pen.
Gard. Sir, there is your paper.
Coach. Sir, there is your standish.
But. Sir, there is your crow-quill pen-

But. Sir, will you please to want any thing glad I have got rid on't. else?

· Sir Geo. Paper, and pen and ink.

But. Sir, I believe we have paper that is fit for your purpose; my lady's mourning paper, that is blacked at the edges. Would you choose to write with a crow-quill?

Sir Geo. There is none better.

But. Coachman, go fetch the paper and standish out of the little parlour. Coach. [To GARDENER.-Peter, prithee, do thou go along with me -I'm afraid-You

VOL. II.

-I'm

[Aside.

Gard. [Aside.]-He forget's that he's to make a circle Doctor, shall I help you to a bit of chalk?

Sir Geo. It is no matter.

But. Look ye, sir, I shewed you the spot, where he's heard oftenest. If your worship can but ferret him out of that old wall in the next

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But. Sir, if I was worthy to advise you, I would have a bottle of good October by me.Shall I set a cup of old stingo at your elbow? Sir Geo. I thank thee-We shall do without it.

Gard. John, he seems a very good-natured man for a conjurer.

But. I'll take this opportunity of inquiring after a bit of plate I have lost. I fancy, whilst he is in my lady's pay, one may hedge in a question or two into the bargain. Sir, sir, may I beg a word in your ear?

Sir Geo. What wouldst thou?

But. Sir, I know I need not tell you, that I lost one of my silver spoons last week.

Sir Geo. Marked with a swan's neck

But. My lady's crest! He knows every thing. [Aside.]-How would your worship advise me to recover it again?

Sir Geo. Hum

But. What must I do to come at it?

Sir Geo. Drink nothing but small-beer for a fortnight

But. Small-beer! rot-gut!

Sir Geo. If thou drink'st a single drop of ale before fifteen days are expired-it is as much— as thy spoon-is worth.

But. I shall never recover it that way- -I'll e'en buy a new one. [Aside.

Coach. D'ye mind how they whisper? Gard. I'll be hanged if he be not asking him something about Nell

Coach. I'll take this opportunity of putting a question to him about poor Dobbin. I fancy he could give me better counsel than the farrier.

But. [To GARDENER.-A prodigious man! He knows every thing. Now is the time to find out thy pick-axe.

Gard. I have nothing to give him. Does not he expect to have his hand crossed with silver? Coach. [To SIR GEORGE.-Sir, may a man venture to ask you a question?

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Coach. Look yonder, John, the silly dog is turning about under the conjurer's wand. If he has been saucy to him, we shall see him puffed off in a whirlwind immediately.

Sir Geo. Twins, dost thou say?

[Still turning him. Gurd. Aye; are they both mine, d'ye think? Sir Geo. Own but one of them.

Gard. Aye, but Mrs Abigail will have me take care of them both-she's always for the butler. If my poor master, sir George, had been alive, he would have made him go halves with me.

Sir Geo. What, was sir George a kind master?

Gard. Was he! Aye, my fellow servants will bear me witness.

Sir Geo. Did ye love sir George?

But. Every body loved him.

Coach. There was not a dry eye in the parish at the news of his death

Gard. He was the best neighbour

But. The kindest husband

Coach. The truest friend to the poor

But. My lady took on mightily; we all thought it would have been the death of her

Sir Geo. I protest these fellows melt me-I think the time long till I am their master again, that I may be kind to them. [Aside.

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to hear some news of my wife. How does she, after her fright?

Vel. It is a saying, somewhere in my lord Coke, that a widow

Sir Geo. I ask of my wife, and thou talkest to me of my lord Coke-Prithee, tell me how she does, for I am in pain for her?

Vel. She is pretty well recovered. Mrs Abigail has put her in good heart; and I have given her great hopes from your skill.

Sir Geo. That, I think, cannot fail, since thou hast got this secret out of Abigail. But I could not have thought my friend Fantome would have served me thus.

Vel. You will still fancy you are a living

man.

Sir Geo. That he should endeavour to ensnare my wife

Vel. You have no right in her after your demise. Death extinguishes all property-Quoad hanc-It is a maxim in the law.

Sir Geo. A pox on your learning! Well, but what is become of Tinsel ?

Vel. He rushed out of the house, called for his horse, clapped spurs to his sides, and was out of sight in less time than I can call ten.

Sir Geo. This is whimsical enough! My wife will have a quick succession of lovers in one day. Fantome has driven out Tinsel, and I shall drive out Fantome.

Vel. Even as one wedge driveth out another -He, he, he! You must pardon me for being jocular.

Sir Geo. Was there ever such a provoking blockhead! But he means me well-You must remember, Vellum, you have abundance of business upon your hands; and I have but just time to tell it you over. All I require of you is dispatch; therefore, hear me.

Vel. There is nothing more requisite in busi

ness than dispatch

Sir Geo. Then, hear me.

Vel. It is, indeed, the life of business-
Sir Geo. Hear me, then, I say.

Vel. And, as one hath rightly observed, the benefit that attends it is four-fold.

First---

Sir Geo. There is no bearing this. Thou art going to describe dispatch, when thou shouldst be practising it.

Vel. But your ho-nour will not give me the hearing

Sir Geo. Thou wilt not give me the hearing.

Vel. I am still.

[Angrily.

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the whole story, and do it with all the art you are master of, that the surprise may not be too great for her.

Vel. It shall be done. But since her ho-nour has seen this apparition, she desires to see you once more, before you encounter it.

Sir Geo. I shall expect her impatiently; for now I can talk to her without being interrupted by that impertinent rogue, Tinsel. I hope thou hast not told Abigail any thing of the secret?

Vel. Mrs Abigail is a woman; there are many reasons why she should not be acquainted with it: I shall only mention six

Sir Geo. Hush, here she comes! Oh, my heart!

Enter LADY TRUEMAN and ABIGAIL.

Sir Geo. [Aside, while VELLUM talks in dumb shew to LADY TRUEMAN.] Oh, that loved woman! How I long to take her in my arms! If I find I am still dear to her memory, it will be a return to life indeed! But I must take care of indulging this tenderness, and put on a behaviour more suitable to my present character.

[Walks at a distance in a pensive posture, waving his wand.

Lady True. [To VELLUM.] This is surprising indeed! So all the servants tell me; they say he knows every thing that has happened in the family.

Abi. [Aside.] A parcel of credulous fools! they first tell him their secrets, and then wonder how he comes to know them.

[Exit VELLUM, exchanging fond looks with

ABIGAIL.

Lady True. Learned sir, may I have some conversation with you, before you begin your ceremonies ?

Sir Geo. Speak-But hold-First, let me feel your pulse.

Lady True. What can you learn from that? Sir Geo. I have already learned a secret from it, that will astonish you.

Lady True. Pray, what is it?

Sir Geo. You will have a husband within this half hour.

Abi. [Aside.] I am glad to hear that--He must mean Mr Fantome. I begin to think there's a good deal of truth in his art.

Lady True. Alas! I fear you mean I shall see sir George's apparition a second time.

Sir Geo. Have courage; you shall see the apparition no more. The husband I mention, shall Abi. Mr Fantome, to be sure. [Aside. Lady True. Impossible; I loved my first too

be as much alive as I am.

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with you in the red damask room, when he first | scoundrel he looked, when he left your ladyship

made love to you; your mother left you together, under pretence of receiving a visit from Mrs Hawthorn, on her return from London. Lady True. This is astonishing!

Sir Geo. You were a great admirer of a single life for the first half hour; your refusals then grew still fainter and fainter. With what ecstacy did sir George kiss your hand, when you told him you should always follow the advice of your mamma!

Lady True. Every circumstance to a tittle! Sir Geo. Then, lady, the wedding-night! I saw you in your white satin night-gown. You would not come out of your dressing-room, till sir George took you out by force. He drew you gently by the hand-You struggled but he was too strong for you-You blushed; he

Lady True. Oh, stop there! go no furtherHe knows every thing!

[Aside. Abi. Truly, Mr Conjurer, I believe you have been a wag in your youth.

Sir Geo. Mrs Abigail, you know what your good word cost sir George; a purse of broad pieces, Mrs Abigail.

Abi. The devil's in him! [Aside.] Pray, sir, since you have told so far, you should tell my lady, that I refused to take them.

Sir Geo. 'Tis true, child; he was forced to thrust them into your bosom.

Abi. This rogue will mention the thousand pounds, if I don't take care. [Aside.] Pray, sir, though you are a conjurer, methinks you need not be a blab.

Lady True. Sir, since I have now no reason to doubt your art, I must beseech you to treat this apparition gently. It has the resemblance of my deceased husband. If there be any undiscovered secret, any thing that troubles his rest, learn it of him.

Sir Geo. I must, to that end, be sincerely informed by you, whether your heart be engaged to another.-Have not you received the addresses of many lovers since his death?

Lady True. I have been obliged to receive more visits than have been agreeable.

Sir Geo. Was not Tinsel welcome ?—I'm afraid to hear an answer to my own question. [Aside.

Lady True. He was well recommended.
Sir Geo. Racks!

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[Aside.

[Aside.

Lady True. Heir to a considerable estate. Sir Geo, Death! [Aside.] And you still love him I'm distracted! [Aside.

Lady True. No, I despise him. I found he had a design upon my fortune; was base, profligate, cowardly, and every thing that could be expected from a man of the vilest principles. Sir Geo. I'm recovered. [Aside. Abi, Oh, madaın, had you seen how like a

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in a swoon! Where have you left my lady? says I. In an elbow-chair, child, says he. And where are you going? says I. To town, child, says he ; for, to tell thee truly, child, says he, I don't care for living under the same roof with the devil, says he.

Sir Geo. Well, lady, I see nothing in all this, that may hinder sir George's spirit from being at rest. Lady True. If he knows any thing of what passes in my heart, he cannot but be satisfied of that fondness which I bear to his memory. My sorrow for him is always fresh, when I think of him. He was the kindest, truest, tenderestTears will not let me go on

Sir Geo. This quite overpowers me!—I shall discover myself before my time. [Aside.] Madam, you may now retire, and leave me to myself. Lady True. Success attend you!

Abi. I wish Mr Fautome gets well off from this old Don-I know he'll be with him immediately.

[Exeunt LADY TRUEMAN and ABIGAIL. Sir Geo. My heart is now at ease!-she is the same dear woman I left her. Now for my revenge upon Fantome! I shall cut the ceremo nies short-A few words will do his business.— Now, let me seat myself in form-A good easy chair for a conjurer this-Now for a few mathematical scratches-A good lucky scrawl that— Faith, I think it looks very astrological-These two or three magical pot-hooks about it, make it a complete conjurer's scheme, [Drum_beats.] Ha, ha, ha! sir, are you there? Enter, drummer -Now must I pore upon my paper.

Enter FANTOME, beating his drum. Pr'ythee, don't make a noise; I'm busy. [FANTOME beats.] A pretty march! Pr'ythee beat that over again. [He beats and advances.] [Rising.] Ha! you're very perfect in the step of a ghost. You stalk it majestically. [FANTOME advances.] How the rogue stares! he acts it to admiration! I'll be hanged if he has not been practising this half hour in Mrs Abigail's wardrobe! [FANTOME stares, gives a rap with his drum.] Pr'ythee, don't play the fool. [FANTOME beats.] Nay, nay; enough of this, good Mr Fantome.

Fan. [Aside.] Death! I am discovered. This jade, Abigail, has betrayed me.

Sir Geo. Mr Fantome, upon the word of an astrologer, your thousand pound bribe will never gain my lady Trueman.

Fan. 'Tis plain, she has told him all. [Aside, Sir Geo. Let me advise you to make off as fast as you can, or I plainly perceive by my art, Mr Ghost will have his bones broke.

Fan. [To SIR GEORGE.] Look ye, old gentleman, I perceive you have learned this secret from Mrs Abigail."

Sir Geo. I have learned it from my art.

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