Das. [Aside.] That's very odd, when I can so well express what I do not feel. Madam, I will do it. Jul. Then, sir, I shall expect you at the prison where my father is. Das. No, no!-I can't tell you why, but I have a strange antipathy to prisons. But, in two hours' time at the gate of it, if you please. Jul. Sir, I'll bless you. Das. [Aside.] Upon my soul I mean it. Now, I suppose I should say some gallant things, but I cannot. Suffice it, I will be there. Jul. Farewell!-happy, happy Julia ! [Exit, L. Das. I will be there ready-with a post-chaise and four, to carry you off, my nice one-then chevy, away for the next town-confine her-swear she's a runaway wife-return-marry Miss Allspice-do old Toby out of the ready. Ha, ha! here he comes-what a gig it is! Enter ALLSPICE, at the top of the stage, C., his hair cropped, a full dress coat on, singing, "Here's a Health to all Good Lasses." All. (R.) Well, here I am-as gay a dasher as the best of you-snug about the head, eh? Das. But what a quiz of a coat you've on! All. Don't you like it? it was my grandfather's. All. Very; but it had one little fault. There was nothing to eat-grottos, trees, fountains, sweetmeat shepherdesses, and buttered cupids in plenty-nothing else. I should have been half-starved, had I not luckily looked over my shoulder, and there beheld my old friend, the honoured sirloin, on the sideboard-I could have cried to see him so disgraced; but I ordered him to be conducted to the top of the table, and the music to strike up "Oh, the Roast Beef of Old England!" and, then, how I ogled the girls, and how they tittered at me! I'm as women give a man's ideas so elegant a turn. much above what I was, as a hogshead is to a butterfirkin. Das. Butter-firkin! Curse it, and sink it, Toby, talk like a gentleman. But, I say, you seem a little damaged. All. Yes; funny, an't I? I got hold of a little bottle, such as they put ketchup in-by the bye, I can sell you some very fine ketchup, if you want any. It was devilish good,-yoyeo they call it. Das. Yoyeo! psha! noyau. All. Well, well, noyau. Egad! when I found it cost a guinea, and that I was to pay for it-I drank it all every drop. Dus. A guinea! bagatelle! I'll put you in a way to drink it every day. All. How, my dear friend? Das. I've had a letter from my clerk. Das. Yes; he has a scheme of buying up furs, by which one hundred per cent, must be made in a month. A trifle-five thousand-will do; but at present my cash is here and there. Indeed, at this moment I can't exactly tell you where it is.-But if you should like it— All. You would not have me lay out five thousand pounds in muffs and tippets, would you? Das. Five thousand! I've speculated deeper in darning-needles.-But you have not the cash? All. Yes, but I have, though--that sum in the house, too-I intended to buy with it half an estate, valued at ten thousand pounds. Das. Then defer the purchase one month, and I'll engage you shall buy the whole. All. Oh, charming! ah, but should it fail Das. But it can't fail-if it do, then blame me. Das. (c.) All you will have to do, will be to come to town in a month, and hug your ten thousand pounds, as sure as the sweet Harriet will hug you. All. Oh, the pretty one! That has fixed me. When the company is gone, I'll give you bank-notes to the amount-and tell your hunting clerk, if he'll make the five thousand ten, I'll give him a guinea. Oh, what a rich jolly dog I shall be! let's go and have another touch at the little bottle,-another guinea's worth-damn the expense! and drink confusion to retailing, and Harriet's health in a bumper! "Here's a health to all good lasses," &c. [Exit, singing, &. SCENE III.-M'Query's Office.-Table and two Chairs. Enter M'QUERY and TANGENT, L, Tan. Come, come, the money-quick! M'Que. You must give your bond for five hundred pounds. Tan. What cash am I to touch? M'Que. Two. I can't afford more, upon my honour. M'Que. My honour? yes, honour is the conservation of society-(Oh, I wish I could recollect Captain Faulkner's flashy speech)-honour is-upon my soul! I can't tell what honour is. Tan. I believe you. Faulkner's name. But you mentioned Captain M'Que. Yes. Oh, I could sell you a nice secret about i. Tan. [Anxiously.] Tell me a secret, did you say? Tan. Well, I am a buyer-any thing respecting him is interesting. M'Que. And you may get a thousand pounds by it. M'Que. Faulkner has humm'd you out of that sum. M'Que. Your friend, Charles Richmond, left it to He told a you, and the old sly thief smushed it. palavering story about distresses, and his dear daughter, and his wife's funeral, and a parcel of balderdash. Tan. [Aside.] Poor Faulkner! my heart bleeds for him. This explains his behaviour. M'Que. Then he has had a law-suit; but he's nonsuited, as this letter will show you. [Gives Tangent a letter. Tan. Come, sir, draw the bond. [Looks at the letter.] What's this? [Reads.] " I remit you your share of the bribe for the error in Faulkner's declaration-have also received, under his power of attorney, two thousand pounds prize- money." Scoundrels! "Which is much better in our hands than his.-The more we distress him, the less danger there is of detection." M'Que. [Writing.] You see by that letter how things are, and what care I've taken of the captain's property. Tan. I'll put this in my pocket, and read it at leisure. M'Que. No, no-I'm always for vouchers-that letter should not be lost. Tan. There I agree with you. Eh, I have it—[Tears off the half sheet with the contents of the letter, from the half sheet that contains the address, wraps that up, and gives it to M'Query.] So, there's the letter. M'Que. Let me see. [Looks at it.] Now, that's as it should be. [Putting it in his pocket. Tan. Exactly-is the bond ready? Tan. [Signing the bond.] But we have no witness. M'Que. Oh, I've a clerk will set his hand to it at any time. That Faulkner's a pretty fellow, isn't he? To be sure, the coolness with which some people take others' property is amazing. [Taking up the bond.] In two hours' time you shall have the two hundred pounds. Tan. Very well; I must go, and tickle my old uncle, and then away to relieve poor Faulkner. M'Que. You've got the money very dear. Tan. 'Tis false. The sensation I feel at this moment is cheap at ten times the sum. M'Que. Rather a neat morning's work! Enter CAUSTIC, R. Cau. Where's Mr. Taugent? M'Que. This moment gone. [Exit, L. Cau. I hear the fool's in love with a Miss Faulkner, a female fortune-hunter, I suppose. Ay, like her sex -sharp as a razor.-You've found them so, I dare say. M'Que. Oh, yes; and, like a razor, I've found strapping a mighty good thing for them. Cau. And does he think I'll forgive this? M'Que. He does. He says he'll tickle you. Except in the article of money; there, indeed, he has reformed. Thank heaven, he don't borrow thousands of you now. M'Que. No; he only borrows five hundreds. Cau. Eh! what do you mean? M'Que. There's his bond, you see. Cau. I'm petrified. M'Que. I'll sell it you. Cau. Sell it me! he owes me thousands-a profligate! I shall be ruined-a beggar! but I'll humble him. He knows the way to tickle me, you know-now we'll see -arrest him-I'll show him I can tickle him-I order you, sir, to arrest him. M'Que. With all my heart and soul.-You will make the affidavit, and I will touch him up with a bit of a capias. Cau. Ay, a capias.-I'll humble him. M'Que. Then follow that up with a fi—fa. Cau. Ay, a fi-fa. M'Que. If that won't do, tip him a ca-sa. Cau. Ay, tip him a ca-sa. He can tickle me, can he? a profligate! come along! [Exeunt M'Query, L.-Caustic, R. END OF ACT III. ACT IV SCENE I.-A Street. Enter DASHALL and POSTILION, L. Pos. The chaise is ready, your honour. Pos. Like myself-blood, every inch. Das. Snug, you dog! Pos. Oh, as sharp as my spurs. [Exit, L. Das. How surprised the girl will be, ha, ha, ha! curse me if I can help laughing to think how she'll cry, ha, ha! Enter NED and Another, R. Bailiffs, by all that's Ned. Ah, master Dashall, how are you? Das. [Keeping at a considerable distance.] How do you do, Ned? How do you do! Ned. You need not be afraid. Das. [Still keeping off.] Afraid! no, to be sure.-I know that. Ned. We don't want you. Das. [Hesitating.] Eh! don't you, though? Ned. Honour! Das. Oh, honour. [Coming up and shaking hands. Ned. Honour among thieves. Das. By the lord, you frightened me. Ned. We are not bailiffs now-we're in the mad line. E. |