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Fau. [With trepidation.] Not-not-that I-know of -agony !

M'Que. No, not that he knows of. I'll bring you off. Fau. Be dumb!

Tan. No, he must have died poor; for villany itself could not wrong so noble a fellow.

Fau. Fiends! tortures!

M'Que. Died poor, certainly? Do you suppose, now, that if he had given any money to Mr.

Fau. Silence, dog!

M'Que. Every dog has his day!

Fau. Where are you going?

M'Que. With Mr. Tangent.


Fau. I'll not trust you. Dare not for your life speak to him.

M'Que. I suppose I may go home.

Fau. This way, then. Remember, I am no trifler. This way, I say. [Exit with M'Query, L. Tan. Madam, am I to conclude so trivial a levity could occasion Captain Faulkner's behaviour, or—

Jul. [Advances.] Sir, I am wholly ignorant. [Sighs.] I never saw my father so before.

Tan. And may I hope, loveliest of women, that the sentiments of that tender bosom

Jul. Sir, the sentiment that governs here is implicit obedience to a father's will. He is returning. Pray

leave me.

Tan. May I not hope, Miss Faulkner, that

Jul. I beg, sir-

Tun. Only


[Exit, R. D.

Jul. How eccentric, yet how interesting! what can

my father mean?

Re-enter FAULKNER, with caution.

Fau. (c.) Is he gone? Thank heaven!
Jul. (R. c.) Pray, sir, has Mr. Tangent-
Fau, Do you combine to torture?

Jul. [Weeps.] Oh, my father! kill me, but do not frown on me.

Fau. Kill thee, Julia !-Oh, I'm to blame.-But my mind is in agony.

Jul. May I not share it? May I not alleviate it?
Fau. No, no.-We must leave this town to-day.
Jul. Sir

Fan. Thy father, Julia, is a beggar.
Jul. Ah!

Fau. Worse-be has contracted debts he cannot discharge, and must, like a rascal, fly.

Jul. Bear up, my heart.

Fau. Nay, worse-thy father is-but why should I agonize her more!

Jul. Oh! don't despair-we shall do very well. I can work, indeed I can-I am a strong girl. [Faints. Fau. [Catches her in his arms.] Revive, my child?—I sheltered thee from misery while it was possible.

Jul. Is what your ancestors left you lost, all lost? Fuu. Yes, Julia, all-[Aside.] for they left me honour. But we must fly.

Jul. Whither, my father?

Fau. Any where, to avoid-
Jul. Mr. Tangent?

Fau. I charge thee, name him not.-- Go in.

Jul. Oh, my father, do not leave me-I dread being alone.

Fau. I will but ruminate awhile, then come to thee. Jul. But, presently?

Fau. Ay, ay.

Jul. But, very soon?

Fau. Yes, my child :-go in. [Exit Julia, L.] Well, I lied it stoutly-the veriest rascal that eats the bread of perjury could not have lied it with more unblushing boldness. Where shall I fly? The poor honest man, e'en in this knavish world, has some few friends; the rich villain more: but the poor rascal-ha! first a thief and then a liar-what follows? some devil whispers, a self-murderer. But oh! my child! can I leave my girl to poverty, to scorn, to dishonour-No, no! we part not. What remains ?-To go to Tangent-crawl in the dust, and be spurn'd by him! rot and damn first!Despair, then, is only left: for the world's palliations, as degrees of guilt-the law of necessity will not give comfort here. No, to the truly proud the first step from honour is perdition.

Enter JULIA, L.

Jul. (L. C.) My father, you said you'd come to medon't be angry. Oh, do you smile on me? then Julia cannot be unhappy. [Embraces Faulkner.] You frown'd

just now-'twas the first time: indeed it cut my heart. Come, sir, be cheerful; for poverty cannot chill the conscious glow of virtue, nor dim the celestial radiance of honour.

Fuu. Oh!

[Exeunt, L.



SCENE I.—A Room in M'Query's House.
Enter M'QUERY, R., and Servant, L.

Ser. Lady Sorrel to wait upon you.

M'Que. Desire Lady Sorrel to walk in.

[Exit Servant, L.

Re-enter Servant with LADY SORREL.

M'Que. Your most obsequious, my lady. How am I to have the honour of serving you? Is it your will I'm to make?

Lady S. (c.) My will, sir?

M'Que. Oh, what a blunder! Because ladies often make their wills, when they should be making their marriage articles.

Lady S. (L.) You gentlemen of the long robe flatter. M'Que. You flatter, my lady! I of the long robe! No, I'm only, as I may say, a mere spencer of the law. Oh, how I love female clients! They are so easily pleased, [Aside.] and so easily imposed on.

Lady S. You are too polite. But that is the characteristic of Ireland-I've been there and had I remained, it is a country I should have been transported with.


M'Que. [Aside.] And had I remained there, it is a country I should have been transported from.

Lady S. Mr. Tangent, who possesses many amiable qualities-in my approbation of men, sir, I always use discernment.

M'Que. Oh, you do-[Aside.] for you always approve of young ones.

Lady S. He has fallen in love with a Miss Faulkner, whose father is, I hear, poor and proud. Pray, sir, do you know any thing about him?

M'Que. A little and one thing I know is, that he owes me fifty pounds, and has not a shilling to pay me.


Lady S. Indeed! If any thing could prevent Tangent's attachment to the lady (a little witch), it would certainly be for their good.-Does it strike you how you could be of service to this captain and his fair daughter?

M'Que. Not at all.

Lady S. What do you think of sending them to--togaol?

M'Que. Gaol! [Aside.] Faith, that's one way of being of service. Why, it's a good place for them to recollect themselves in.

Lady S. And would prevent Tangent's seeing her. M'Que. And bring down the pride of the father. Lady S. And, as they are poor, would contract their


M'Que. Apartment found them for nothing there, you know.

Lady S. Well. then, as Captain Faulkner owes you money, suppose you were to arrest

M'Que. Oh, I can't-I can't in honour, because [Aside.] I should get nothing by it. Here is his bond. Now, many people take fancies to bonds-for my part, I'd just as soon have ready money-it's a mighty pretty bond; and, if you'll purchase it, I'll send him to gaol with all the pleasure in life; for then, you know, I'm only an attorney in the business; and 'tis no matter what I do.

Lady S. [Aside.] How fortunate! Now I shall be revenged-Very well. Assign it to me; and, as we agree it will be for their good, you may as well arrestM'Que. Yes; I'll give the captain a wholesome tap on the shoulder. In the next room is parchment, pen, and ink.

Lady S. I am going to Allspice's gala. I suppose you will be there to pay your court to the barristers ?

M'Que. No; I go there to have the barristers pay court to me. You'll see the young ones crowd about me like a plate full of potatoes round a butter-boat, and try to wheedle me out of a light half-guinea. Oh, Miss Faulkner is no more to be compared to you, madam, than a little twinkling star is to the full moon.

Lady S. Ah! sir, flattery's another characteristic of your country.

M'Que. My words exactly express my meaning, my lady, and that's another characteristic of my country. [Exeunt, R.

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SCENE II.—A spacious Suit of Rooms, brilliantly illuminated-Music playing-card-tables, &c.

Enter CLEMENTINA, at the top of the stage, R.

Cle. What a horrid capricious old wretch that Mr. Caustic is! Just now, when to humour him I praised his nephew, he insisted I should not name him. Well, I vow I am glad of that! for Mr. Dashall is far more tonish. I observed him to-day, with his hands in his pookets, elbowing every body, treading on the ladies' toes, and, without any apology, tearing their dresses in such a style

Enter DASHALL at the top of the stage, C., looking round.

Das. A gay thing, ma'am, faith! all elegance.

Cle. Except pa. Oh, sir, did you hear him at dinner? He rose up (all the company were silent, expecting a complimentary address), and roars out, "Ladies and gentlemen, pray don't spare the pickles, for there are plenty in the shop." Oh, I blushed in such a style.

Das. Ha, ha! upon my soul-and all that--you're a fine creature! and interest my feelings more than any event since Waxy, the race-horse, won the Derby.

Cle. How flattering! how elegant! will you love me, sir ?

-Das. May virtue seize me, if, when we're married, I don't adore you!

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Das. You would not have us found together, debtor and creditor, in your father's ledger, or stuck together like his figs.

Cle. Oh, shocking!

Das. No ours shall be a stylish adoration-separate beds-you making a dash with your friend in one curricle, I making a splash with mine in another. You at Bath-I at Newmarket.

Cle. Oh, charming! hail, connubial love! Oh, here comes Mr. Caustic.

Das. Then you shall see me hoax him.

Cle. Oh no It is he that has the disposal of my aunt's fortune.

Dus. Oh, that's the reason that all the women were

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