ACT IV. SCENE I.

Picture Room at Charles's.

Enter CHARLES SURFACE, Sir OLIVER SURFACE, MOSES, and Careless.

Charles S. Walk in, gentlemen, pray walk in; -here they are, the family of the Surfaces, up to the Conquest.

Sir Oliver S. And, in my opinion, a goodly collection.

Charles S. Ay, ay, these are done in the true spirit of portrait painting;—no volontier grace and expression. Not like the works of your modern Raphaels, who give you the strongest resemblance, yet contrives to make your portrait independent of you; so that you may sink the original and not hurt the picture.No, -no; the merit of these is the inveterate likeness-all stiff and awkward as the originals, and like nothing in human nature besides.

Sir Oliver S. Ah! we shall never see such figures of men again.

Charles S. I hope not.- -Well, you see, master Premium, what a domestic character I am; here I sit of an evening surrounded by my

family.- -But, come, get to your pulpit, Mr. Auctioneer; here's an old gouty chair of my father's will answer the purpose.

Careless. Ay, ay, this will do.

-But, Charles,

I hav'n't a hammer; and what's an auctioneer without his hammer?

Charles S. Egad, that's true;-what parchment have we here?-O, our genealogy in full. Here, Careless,-you shall have no common bit of mahogany, here's the family tree for you, you rogue,—this shall be your hammer, and now you may knock down my ancestors with their own pedigree.

Sir Oliver S. What an unnatural rogue!—an ex post facto parricide! [Aside.

Careless. Yes, yes, here's a bit of your generation indeed;-faith, Charles, this is the most convenient thing you could have found for the business, for 'twill serve not only as a hammer, but a catalogue into the bargain. -Come, begin-A-going, a-going, a-going!

Charles S. Bravo, Careless!-Well, here's my great uncle, Sir Richard Raveline, a marvellous good general in his day, I assure you. He served in all the Duke of Marlborough's wars, and got that cut over his eye at the battle of Malplaquet. What say you, Mr. Premium ?— look at him-there's a hero, not cut out of his

feathers, as your modern clipt captains are, but enveloped in wig and regimentals, as a general should be.-What do you bid?

Moses. Mr. Premium would have you speak. Charles S. Why, then, he shall have him for ten pounds, and I'm sure that's not dear for a staff-officer.

Sir Oliver S. Heaven deliver me! his famous uncle Richard for ten pounds! [Aside.]-Well, sir, I take him at that.

Charles S. Careless, knock down my uncle Richard. Here, now, is a maiden sister of his, my great aunt Deborah, done by Kneller, thought to be in his best manner, and a very formidable likeness.-There she is, you see, a shepherdess feeding her flock.-You shall have her for five pounds ten-the sheep are worth the money.

Sir Oliver S. Ah! poor Deborah! a woman who set such a value on herself! [Aside.]—Five pounds ten-she's mine.

Charles S. Knock down my aunt Deborah !— Here, now, are two that were a sort of cousins of theirs. You see, Moses, these pictures were done some time ago, when beaux wore wigs, and the ladies their own hair.

Sir Oliver S. Yes, truly, head-dresses appear to have been a little lower in those days.

Charles S. Well, take that couple for the

same.

Moses. 'Tis good bargain.

Charles S. Careless!-This, now, is a grandfather of my mother's, a learned judge, well known on the western circuit.-What do you rate him at, Moses?

Moses. Four guineas.

Charles S. Four guineas!-Gad's life, you don't bid me the price of his wig.—Mr. Premium, you have more respect for the woolsack; do let us knock his lordship down at fifteen. Sir Oliver S. By all means.

Careless. Gone!

Charles S. And there are two brothers of his, William and Walter Blunt, Esquires, both members of parliament, and noted speakers, and what's very extraordinary, I believe, this is the first time they were ever bought or sold.

Sir Oliver S. That is very extraordinary, indeed! I'll take them at your own price, for the honour of parliament.

Careless. Well said, little Premium!— I'lí knock them down at forty.

Charles S. Here's a jolly fellow-I don't know what relation, but he was mayor of Manchester: take him at eight pounds.

Sir Oliver S. No, no; six will do for the mayor.

Charles S. Come, make it guineas, and I'll throw you the two aldermen there into the bargain.

Sir Oliver S. They're mine.

Charles S. Careless, knock down the mayor and aldermen.- -But plague on't, we shall be all day retailing in this manner; do let us deal wholesale: what say you, little Premium? Give us three hundred pounds for the rest of the family in the lump.

Careless. Ay, ay, that will be the best way. Sir Oliver S. Well, well, any thing to accommodate you; they are mine. But there is one portrait which you have always passed over. Careless. What, that ill-looking little fellow over the settee?

Sir Oliver S. Yes, sir, I mean that, though I don't think him so ill-looking a little fellow, by any means.

Charles S. What, that ?-Oh! that's my uncle Oliver; 'twas done before he went to India.

Careless. Your uncle Oliver! - Gad, then you'll never be friends, Charles. That, now, to me, is as stern a looking rogue as ever I saw; an unforgiving eye, and a damned disinheriting countenance! an inveterate knave, depend on't. Don't you think so, little Premium?

Sir Oliver S. Upon my soul, sir, I do not; I think it is as honest a looking face as any in the