my heart-What matter is it who holds it? What need any body hold it ?—I'll put it in my pocket, Val, and then nobody need hold it. [Puts the paper in his pocket ] There, Val: it's safe enough, boy.— But thou shalt have it as soon as thou hast set thy hand to another paper, little Val.

Enter JEREMY and BUCKRAM.

Val. What, is my bad genius here again? Oh no, 'tis the lawyer with an itching palm; and he's come to be scratched.-My nails are not long enough.Let me have a pair of red-hot tongs quickly, quickly; and you shall see me act St. Dunstan, and lead the devil by the nose.

Buck. O Lord, let me be gone! I'll not venture myself with a madman. [Runs out. Val. Ha, ha, ha! you need not run so fast. Honesty will not overtake you.-Ha, ha, ha! the rogue found me out to be in forma pauperis presently.

Sir S. Oons! what a vexation is here! I know not what to do or say, or which way to go.

Val. Who's that, that's out of his way? I am Honesty, and can set him right.-Harkee, friend, the strait road is the worst way you can go.-He that follows his nose always, will very often be led into a stink. Probatum est.-But what are you for? religion or politics? There's a couple of topics for you, no more like one another than oil and vinegar; and yet these two beaten together by a state cook, make sauce for the whole nation.

Sir S. What the devil had I to do, ever to beget

sons? why did I ever marry?

Val. Because thou wert a monster, old boy. The two greatest monsters in the world, are a man and a woman. What's thy opinion?

Sir S. Why my opinion is, that these two monsters joined together make yet a greater; that's a man and his wife.

Val. Aha, old Truepenny! say'st thou so? Thou hast nicked it.—But it is wonderful strange, Jeremy. Jer. What is it, sir?

Val. That grey hairs should cover a green headand I make a fool of my father. What's here? Erra Pater, or a bearded Sibyl? If Prophecy comes, Honesty must give place. [Exeunt Valentine and Jeremy.

Enter FORESIGHT, Mrs. FORESIGHT, and Mrs. FRAIL.

For. What says he? What did he prophesy? Ha, Sir Sampson! Bless us! how are we?

Sir S. Are we ? A pox on your prognostications! Why, we are fools as we used to be.-Oons, that you could not foresee that the moon would predominate, and my son be mad!-Where's your oppositions, your trines, and your quadrates?" What did your "Cardan and your Ptolemy tell you? Your Messa"halah and your Longomontanus, your harmony of "chiromancy with astrology!" Ah! pox on't, that I who know the world, and men and manners, who don't believe a syllable in the sky and stars, and sun

and almanacks, and trash, should be directed by a dreamer, an omen-hunter, and defer business in expectation of a lucky hour! when, body o'me! there never was a lucky hour after the first opportunity. [Exit.

For. Ah, Sir Sampson, Heaven help your head!

-This is none of your lucky hour-Nemo omnibus horis sapit !What is he gone, and in contempt of science? Ill stars and unconvertible ignorance attend him!

Scand. You must excuse his passion, Mr. Foresight; for he has been heartily vexed.-His son is Non compos mentis, and thereby incapable of making any conveyance in law; so that all his measures are disappointed.

For. Ha! say you so?

Mrs. F. What, has my sea lover lost his anchor of hope then? [Aside to Mrs. Foresight. Mrs. For. O sister, what will you do with him?

Mrs. F. Do with him? Send him to sea again in the next foul weather.-He's used to an inconstant element, and won't be surprised to see the tide turned.

For. Wherein was I mistaken, not to foresee this? [Considers.

Scand. Madam, you and I can tell him something else that he did not foresee, and more particularly relating to his own fortune! [Aside to Mrs. Foresight.

"Mrs. For. What do you mean? I don't under"stand you.

"Scand. Hush, softly—the pleasures of last "night, my dear; too considerable to be forgot so

<< soon.

"Mrs. For. Last night? and what would your im"pudence infer from last night? Last night was like "the night before, I think.

“Scand. 'Sdeath, do you make no difference be"tween me and your husband?

"Mrs. For. Not much-he's superstitious; and you “are mad, in my opinion.

"Scand. You make me mad.-You are not se "rious?—pray recollect yourself.

"Mrs. For. O yes, now I remember, you were very "impertinent and impudent—and would have come "to bed to me.

"Scand. And did not?

"Mrs. For. Did not! With what face can you ask "the question?

"Scand. This I have heard of before, but never be. "lieved. I have been told, she had that admirable "quality of forgetting to a man's face in the morn“ing, that she had lain with him all night; and de"nying that she had done favours, with more im"pudence than she could grant them. [Aside.] "Madam, I'm your humble servant, and honour you."-You look pretty well, Mr. Foresight. How did you rest last night?

For. Truly, Mr. Scandal, I was so taken up with broken dreams, and distracted visions, that I remember little.

Scand. "'Twas a very forgetting night."-But would you not talk with Valentine? Perhaps you may understand him; I am apt to believe, there is something mysterious in his discourse, and sometimes rather think him inspired than mad.

For. You speak with singular good judgment, Mr. Scandal, truly.-I am inclining to your Turkish opinion in this matter, and do reverence a man whom the vulgar think mad. Let us go to him.

Mrs. F. Sister, do you go with them; I'll find out my lover, and give him his discharge, and come to you.-[Exeunt Scandal, Mr. and Mrs. Foresight.] On my conscience, here he comes 1

Enter BEN.

Ben. All mad, I think.-Flesh, I believe all the Calentures of the sea are come ashore, for my part. Mrs. F. Mr. Benjamin in choler!

Ben. No, I'm pleased well enough, now I have found you.-Mess, I have had such a hurricane on your account yonder!

Mrs. F. My account -Pray, what's the matter?

Ben. Why, father came, and found me squabbling with yon chitty-faced thing, as he would have me marry-so he asked what was the matter.-He asked in a surly sort of a way.-It seems brother Val is gone mad, and so that put'n into a passion; but what did I know that? what's that to me -So he asked in a surly sort of manner-and, God, I answered