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Win. Don't tell me of your solids; I tell you he'll never be solid: and so I'll go and mind my business-let me see, where is this chap-[Reads] -ay, ay; at the Crown and Rolls-good morning, friend Gargle; don't plague yourself about the numskull; study fractions, man; vulgar fractions will carry you through the world; arithmetical'proportion is, when the antecedent and consequent-a[Going.

Enter a Porter.

Por. Yes, sir, in Gray's-Inn-Lane. Win. Let him lie there, let him lie there-I am glad of it

Gar. Do, my dear sir, let us step to himWin. No, not I, let him stay there-this it is to have a genius-ha, ha? a genius? ha, ha !— a genius is a fine thing, indeed! ha, ha, ha! [Erit. Gar. Poor man! he has certainly a fever on his spirits- do you step in with me, honest man, till I slip on my coat, and, then, I'll go after this

Win. Who are you, pray? What do you unfortunate boy.

want?

Por. Is one Mr. Gargle here!
Gar. Yes; who wants him?
Por. Here's a letter for you.

Gar. Let me see it. O dear heart!-[Reads.] -To Mr. Gargle, at the Pestle and Mortar'— 'Slidikins! This is a letter from that unfortunate young fellow

Win. Let me see it, Gargle.

Gar. A moment's patience, good Mr. Wingate, and this may unravel all-[Reads.]-Poor young man! His brain is certainly turned; I can't make head or tail of it.

Win. Ha, ha! You're a pretty fellow! give it me, man—I'll make it out for you-'tis his hand, sure enough.-[Reads.]

To Mr. Gargle, &c.

Por. Yes, sir; 'tis in Gray's-Inn-lane.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV-A spunging house; DICK and Bailiff at a table, and CHARLOTTE sitting in a disconsolate manner by him.

man

Bail. Here's my service to you, young gentle-don't be uneasy; the debt is not much; why do you look so sad? Dick. Because captivity has robbed me of a just and dear diversion.

Bail. Never look sulky at me. I never use any body ill. Come, it has been many a good man's lot; here's my service to you, but we've no liquor; come we'll have the other bowl

Dick. I've now not fifty ducats in the world -yet still I am in love, and pleased with ruin. Bail. What do you say? you've fifty shillings

Dick. Now thank heaven! I'm not worth a groat.

Bail. Then, there's no credit here, I can tell you that you must get bail, or go to New

Most potent, grave, and reverend doctor, my very noble and approved good master! that II hope? have taken away your daughter, it is most true, true I will marry her; 'tis true, 'tis pity, and pity'tis, tis true.-What in the name of common sense, is all this?—I have done your shop some service, and you know it; no more of that! yetgateI could wish, that, at this time, I had not been this thing. What can the fellow mean?-For time may have yet one fated hour to come which, winged with liberty, may overtake occasion past. -Overtake occasion past! Time and tide waits for no man-I expect redress from thy noble sorrows; thine and my poor country's ever.

K. WINGATE. Mad as a march hare! I have done with him, let him stay till the shoe pinches, a crack-brained numbskull!

Por. An't please ye, sir, I fancies the gentleman is a little beside himself! he took hold on me here by the collar and bid me prove his wife a whore Lord help him! I never seed the gentleman's spouse in my born days before.

Gar. Is she with him now?

Por. I believe so-―There's a likely young woman with him, all in tears.

Gar. My daughter to be sure

Win. Let the fellow go and be hangedWounds! I would not go the length of iny arm to save the villain from the gallows. Where was he, friend when he gave you this letter?

Por. I fancy, master, the gentleman's under troubles I brought it from a spunging-house. Win. From a spunging-house?

-who, do you think is to pay houserent for you? You see your friends won't come near you-They've all answered in the old cant. I've promised my wife never to be bail for any body, or, I've sworn not to do it,' or, I'd lend you the money if I had it, but desire to be excused from bailing any man.' The porter you just now sent, will bring the same answer, I warrant. Such poverty-struck devils as you stay in my house! you shall go to Quod, I can tell you that[Knocking at the door. Bail. Coming, coming; I am coming; I shall lodge you in Newgate, I promise you, before night- not worth a groat! you're a fine fellow to stay in a man's house!- -You shall go to Quod. [Erit. Dick. Come, clear up, Charlotte, never mind this come now-let us act the prison-scene in the mourning bride

Char. How can you think of acting speeches, when we're in such distress? Dick. Nay, but my dear angel

Enter WINGATE and GARGLE.

Gar Hush! Do, dear sir, let us listen to him
-I dare say he repents-

Win. Wounds! what clothes are those the fellow has on? Zookers, the scoundrel has robbed me.

Dick. Come, now, we'll practise an attitude― Char. Nay, but, p'rythee now, have done with How many of them have you?your speeches. You see we are brought to the Char. Let me see-one-two-three-and, last distress, and so you had better make it up— then, in the fourth act, and then-O, Gemini, I have ten at least

mind.

Dick. That will do swimmingly-I've a round dozen myself--Come, now, begin you fancy me dead, and I think the same of you-now, [They stand in attitudes. Win. Only mind the villain! Dick. O thou soft fleeting form of Lindamira! Char. Illusive shade of my beloved Lord. Dick. She lives, she speaks, and we shall still be happy.

Win. You lie, you villain! you shan't be hapPy. [Knocks him down. Dick. [On the ground.] Perdition catch your arm! the chance is thine.

Gar. So, my young madam! I have found you again.

Dick. Capulet, forbear! Paris, let loose your hold-She is my wife-our hearts are twined together.

Win. Sirrah, villain, I'll break every bone in your body. [Strikes. Dick. Parents have flinty hearts; no tears can move them; -Children must be wretchedWin. Get off the ground, you villain; get off the ground!

Dick. 'Tis a pity there are no scene-drawers to lift me

Win. A scoundrel, to rob your father! you rascal, I have a mind to break your head!

Dick. What like this?

[Takes off his wig, and shews two patches on his head.] Win. 'Tis mighty well, young man-Zookers! I made my own fortune; and I'll take a boy out of the Blue-coat-hospital, and give him all I have. Lookye here, friend Gargle. You know, I am not a hard-hearted man. The scoundrel, you know, has robbed me; so, d'ye see, I won't hang him; I'll only transport the fellowAnd so, Mr. Catchpole, you may take him to Newgate

Gar. Well, but, dear sir, you know I always intended to marry my daughter into your family; and if you let the young man be ruined, my money must all go into another channel.

Win. How's that! into another channel!Must not lose the handling of his moneyWhy, I told you, friend Gargle, I am not a hardhearted man.

Gar. Why no, sir; but your passionsHowever, if you will but make the young gentleman serve out the last year of his apprenticeship, you know I shall be giving over, and I may put him into all my practice.

Win. Ha, ha! Why, if the blockhead would but get as many crabbed physical words from Hyppocrites and Allen, as he has from his nonsensical trumpery-ha, ha! I don't know, between you and I, but he might pass for a very good physician.

Dick. And must I leave thee, Juliet?

[Aside to Dick. Dick. Why, for your sake, my dear, I could almost find in my heart

Win. You'll settle your money on your daugh

ter?

Gar. You know it was always my inten

tion

Win. I must not let the cash slip through my hands [Aside.] Lookye here young man-I am the best-natured man in the world. How came this debt, friend?

Bail. The gentleman gave his note at Bristol, I understands, where he boarded; 'tis but twenty pounds

Win. Twenty pounds! Well, why don't you send to your friend Shakespeare now to bail you-ha, ha! I should like to see Shakespeare give bail-ba, ha! Mr. Catchpole, willyou take bail of Ben Thompson, and Shakespeare, and Odyssey Popes?

Bail. No such people have been here, sir— are they house-keepers?

Dick. You do not come to mock my miseries? Gur. Hush, young man! you'll spoil allLet me speak to you- How is your digestion? Dick. Throw physic to the dogs I'll none of

it

Char. Nay, but dear Dick, for my sake-
Win. What says he, Gargle?

Gar. He repents, sir-he'll reformWin. That's right, lad; now you're rightand if you will but serve out your time, my friend Gargle, here, will make a man of you. Wounds! you'll have his daughter and all his money; and if I hear no more of your trumpery, and you mind your business, and stick to my little Charlotte, and make me a grandfather in my old days; egad, you shall have all mine, too; that is, when I am dead.

Dick. Charlotte, that will do rarely, and we may go to the plays as often as we please—

Char. O Gemini, it will be the purest thing in the world, and we'll see Romeo and Juliet every time it is acted.

Dick. Ay, that will be a hundred times in a season at least. Besides, it will be like a play, if I reform at the end. Sir, free me so far in your most generous thoughts, that I have shot my arrow over the house, and hurt my brother. Win. What do you say, friend?

Char. Nay, but pr'ythee now do it in plain English

Dick. Well, well, I will. He knows nothing of metaphors-Sir, you shall find for the fu ture, that we'll both endeavour to give you all the satisfaction in our power.

Win. Very well, that's right; you may do very well. Friend Gargle, I am overjoyed-

Gar. Chearfulness, sir, is the principal ingredient in the composition of health.

Win. Wounds, man! let us hear no more of your physic. Here, young man, put this book in

your pocket, and let me see how soon you'll be | master of vulgar fractions. Mr. Catchpole, step home with me, and I'll pay you the money; you seem to be a notable sort of a fellow, Mr. Catchpole; could you nab a man for me?

Cutch. Fast enough, sir, when I have the writ

Win. Very well, come along. I lent a young gentleman a hundred pounds, a cool hundred he called it-ha, ha! it did not stay to cool with him. I had a good premium; but I shan't wait a moment for that-Come along, young man; What right have you to twenty pounds? give you twenty pounds! I never was obliged to my family for twenty pounds--but I'll say no more;

if you have a mind to thrive in this world, make yourself useful is the golden rule.

Dick. My dear Charlotte, as you are to be my reward, I'll be a new man

Char. Well, now, I shall see how much you love me.

Dick. It shall be my study to deserve you; and since we don't go on the stage, 'tis some com fort that the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players.

Some play the upper, some the under parts,
And most assume what's foreign to their hearts;
Thus, life is but a tragi-comic jest,
And all is farce and muminery at best.

[Exeunt omnes,

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SCENE I.-BELMOUR'S Lodgings.

ACT I.

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Bel. Then, sirrah, I'll make you know your meaning for the future.

Brisk. Yes, sir-to be sure, sir—and yet, upon my word, if you would be but a little cool, sir, you'd find I'm not much to blame. Besides, master, you can't conceive the good it would do your health, if you will but keep your temper a little.

Bel. Mighty well, sir, give your advice!

Brisk. Why, really, now, this same love hath metamorphosed us both very strangely, master: for, to be free, here have we been at this work these six weeks, stark-staring mad in love with a couple of baggages not worth a groat: and yet,

Heaven help us! they have as much pride as comes to the share of a lady of quality, before she has been caught in the fact with a handsome young fellow, or indeed after she has been caught for that matter

Bel. You won't have done, rascal!

Bel. My dear Rovewell, such a girl! Ten thousand cupids play about her mouth, you rogue!

Rove. Ten thousand pounds had better play about her pocket. What fortune has she? Brisk. Heaven help us, not much to crack of. Bel. Not much to crack of, Mr. Brazen ! Pr'y

Brisk. In short, my young mistress and her maid have as much pride and poverty as-as-thee, Rovewell, how can you be so ungenerous as no matter what; they have the devil and allwhen, at the same time, every body knows the old broken upholsterer, Miss Harriet's father, might give us all he has in the world, and not eat the worse pudding on a Sunday for it.

Bel. Impious, execrable atheist ! What, detract from Heaven? I'll reform your notions, I will, you saucy[Beats him. Brisk. Nay, but my dear sir-a little patience -not so hard

Enter RoVEWELL.

Rove. Belmour, your servant-What, at loggerheads with my old friend, Brisk?

Bel. Confusion !-Mr. Rovewell, your servant -this is your doing, hang dog! Jack Rovewell, I am glad to see thee

Rove. Brisk used to a good servant-he has not been tampering with any of his master's girls, has he.

Bel. Do you know, Mr. Rovewell he has had the impudence to talk distractingly and profanely of my mistress?

Brisk. For which, sir, I have suffered inhumanly, and most unchristian-like, I assure you. Bel. Will you leave prating, booby? Rove. Well, but Belmour, where does she live? I am but just arrived you know, and I'll go and beat up her quarters.

Bel. [Half aside.] Beat up her quarters!

[Looks at him smilingly then half aside. Favours to none, to all she smiles extends? Oft she rejects, but never once offends.

[Stands musing.

to ask such a question? you know I don't mind fortune; though by the way she has an uncle, who is determined to settle very handsomely upon her, and on the strength of that does she give herself innumerable airs.

Rove. Fortune not to be minded! I'll tell you what, Belmour, though you have a good one already, there's no kind of inconvenience in a little more. I am sure if I had not minded fortune, I might have been in Jamaica still, not worth a sugar-cane; but the widow Molossus took a fancy to me-Heaven, or a worse destiny, has taken a fancy to her; and so, after ten years exile, and being turned a-drift by my father, here am I again, a warm planter, and a widower, most woefully tired of matrimony. But, my dear Belmour, we were both so overjoyed to meet one another yesterday evening, just as I arrived in town, that I did not hear a syllable from you of your love fit. How, when and where, did this happen?

Bel. Oh, by the most fortunate accident that ever was-I'll tell thee, Rovewell-I was going one night from the tavern about six weeks agoI had been there with a parcel of blades, whose only joy is centered in their bottle; and faith till this accident, I was no better myself—but ever since, I am grown quite a new man.

Rove. Ay, a new man indeed! who in the name of wonder, would take thee, sunk as thou art, into a musing, moping, melancholy lover, for the gay Charles Belmour, whom I knew in the West Indies.

Bel. Poh! that is not to be mentioned. You know my father took me against my will from the university, and consigned me over to the academic discipline of a man of war; so that, to Pr'y-prevent a dejection of spirits, I was obliged to run into the opposite extreine-as you yourself were won't to do.

Rove. Hey! what fallen into a reverie? thee, Brisk, what does all this mean? Brisk. Why, sir, you must know-I am over head and ears in love.

Rove. But I mean your master; what ails him?

Brisk. That's the very thing I am going to tell you, sir-As I said, sir-I am over head and ears in love with a whimsical queer kind of a piece here in the neighbourhood; and so nothing can serve my master, but he must fall in love with the mistress. Look at him now sir――

[BELMOUR Continues musing and muttering to himself. Rove. Ha, ha, ha! Poor Belmour, I pity thee, with all my heart

[Strikes him on the shoulder,

Ye gods, annihilate both space and time,
And make two lovers happy.

Rove. Why, yes; I had my moments of reflection, and was glad to dissipate them. You know I always told you there was something extraordinary in my story; and so there is still I suppose, it must be cleared up in a few days now-I am in no hurry about it, though I must see the town a little this evening, and have my frolic first. But to the point, Belmour-you was going from the tavern you say?

Bel. Yes, sir, about two in the morning; and I perceived an unusual blaze in the air-I was in a rambling humour, and so resolved to know

what it was.

Brisk. I and my master went together, sir. Bel. Oh, Rovewell! my better stars ordained it to light ine on to happiness. By sure attrac tion led, I came to the very street where a house.

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