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Miss Nev. Since his death, I have been obliged to stoop to dissimulation to avoid oppression. In an hour of levity, I was ready even to give up my fortune to secure my choice: but I am now recovered from the delusion, and hope from your tenderness what is denied me from a nearer connection. Mrs. Hard. Pshaw, pshaw! this is all but the whining end of a modern novel.

Hard. Be it what it will, I'm glad they're come back to reclaim their due. Come hither, Tony, boy. Do you refuse this lady's hand, whom I now offer you?

Tony. What signifies my refusing? You know I can't refuse her till I'm of age, father.

Hard. While I thought concealing your age, boy, was likely to conduce to your improvement, I concurred with your mother's desire to keep it secret. But since I find she turns it to a wrong use, I must now declare you have been of age these three months.

Tony. Of age! Am I of age, father?

Hard. Above three months.

Tony. Then you'll see the first use I'll make of my liberty. (Taking Miss Neville's hand.) Witness all men by these presents, that I, Anthony Lumpkin, esquire, of BLANK place, refuse you, Constantia Neville, spinster, of no place at all, for my true and lawful wife. So Constance Neville may marry whom she pleases, and Tony Lumpkin is his own man again.

Sir Charl. O brave Squire!

Hast. My worthy friend!

Mrs. Hard. My undutiful offspring!

Marl. Joy, my dear George, I give you joy sincerely! And, could I prevail upon my little tyrant here to be less arbitrary, I should be the happiest man alive-if you would return me the favour.

Hast. (To MISS HARDCASTLE.) Come, Madam, you are now driven to the very last scene of all your contrivances. I know you like him, I'm sure he loves you, and you must and shall have him.

Hard. (Joining their hands.) And I say so too. And, Mr. Marlow, if she makes as good a wife as she has a daughter, I don't believe you'll ever repent your bargain. So now to supper. To-morrow we shall gather all the poor of the parish about us, and the Mistakes of the Night shall be crowned with a merry morning. So, boy, take her; and, as you have been mistaken in the mistress, my wish is, that you may never be mistaken in the wife. [Exeunt omnes.

EPILOGUE,

To be spoken in the Character of Tony Lumpkin.
By J. CRADOCK, Esq.

WELL-now all's ended-and my comrades gone,
Pray what becomes of mother's nonly son!
A hopeful blade!-in town I'll fix my station,
And try to make a bluster in the nation:
As for my cousin Neville, I renounce her-
Off, in a crack, I'll carry big Bet Bouncer!

Why should not I in the great world appear?
I soon shall have a thousand pounds a-year!
No matter what a man may here inherit,
In London-'gad, they've some regard to spirit.
I see the horses prancing up the streets,
And big Bet Bouncer bobs to all she meets;
Then hoiks to jigs and pastimes ev'ry night—
Not to the plays-they say it an't polite:
To Sadler's-Wells, perhaps, or operas go,
And once, by chance, to the roratorio.
Thus here and there, for ever up and down,
We'll set the fashions, too, to half the town;
And then at auctions-money ne'er regard—
Buy pictures, like the great, ten pounds a-yard:
Zounds! we shall make these London gentry say,
We know what's damn'd genteel as well as they!

SCENE

FROM

THE GRUMBLER.

A FARCE.

DRAMATIS PERSONE.

Sourby (the Grumbler)

Octavio (his Son)

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Wentworth (Brother-in-law to Sourby) Dancing Master (called Signior Capriole in the Bills)

Scamper (Servant)

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MR. DAVIS.

MR. OWENSON.

MR. KING.

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Enter SCAMPER (Sourby's servant) to SOURBY, and his
intended wife's maid JENNY.

Scam. Sir, a gentleman would speak with you.

Jenny. Good! Here comes Scamper; he'll manage you, I'll warrant me. (Aside.)

Sour. Who is it?

Scam. He says his name is Monsieur Ri-Ri-Stay, Sir, I'll go and ask him again.

Sour. (Pulling him by the ears.) Take that, sirrah, by the

way.

Scam. Ahi! Ahi!

[Exit.

Jenny. Sir, you have torn off his hair, so that he must

now have a wig: you have pulled his ears off; but there are none of them to be had for money.

Sour. I'll teach him-'Tis certainly Mr. Rigaut, my notary; I know who it is, let him come in. Could he find no time but this to bring me money? Plague take the blockhead!

Enter DANCING-MASTER and his FIDDLER. Sour. This is not my man. compliments?

Who are you, with your

Dan. Mast. (Bowing often.) I am called Rigaudon, Sir, at your service.

Sour. (To Jenny.) Have not I seen that face somewhere before?

Jenny. There are a thousand people like one another. Sour. Well, Mr. Rigaudon, what is your business? Dan. Mast. To give you this letter from Madame Clarissa. Sour. Give it to me-I would fain know who taught Clarissa to fold a letter thus. What contains it?

Jenny. (Aside, while he unfolds the letter.) A lover, I believe, never complained of that before.

Sour. (Reads.) "Everybody says I am to marry the most brutal of men. I would disabuse them; and for that reason you and I must begin the ball to-night." She is mad! Dan. Mast. Go on, pray, Sir.

Sour. (Reads.) "You told me you cannot dance; but I have sent you the first man in the world." (Sourby looks at him from head to foot.)

Dan. Mast. Oh Lord, Sir.

Sour. (Reads.) "Who will teach you in less than an hour enough to serve your purpose." I learn to dance!

Dan. Mast. Finish, if you please.

Sour. "And if you love me, you will learn the Allemande." The Allemande! I, the Allemande! Mr. the first man in the world, do you know you are in some danger here?

Dan. Mast. Come, Sir, in a quarter of an hour, you shall dance to a miracle!

Sour. Mr. Rigaudon, do you know I will send you out of the window if I call my servants?

Dan. Mast. (Bidding his man play.) Come, brisk, this little prelude will put you in humour; you must be held by the hand; or have you some steps of your own?

Sour. Unless you put up that d-d fiddle, I'll beat it about your ears.

Dan. Mast. Zounds, Sir! if you are thereabouts, you shall dance presently—I say presently.

Sour. Shall I dance, villain?

Dan. Mast. Yes. By the heavens above shall you dance. I have orders from Clarissa to make you dance. She has paid me, and dance you shall; first, let him go out.

[He draws his sword, and puts it under his arm. Sour. Ah! I'm dead. What a madman has this woman sent me!

Jenny. I see I must interpose. Stay you there, Sir; let me speak to him; Sir, pray do us the favour to go and tell the lady, that it's disagreeable to my master.

Dan. Mast. I will have him dance.

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Jenny. Consider, if you please, my master is a grave man.
Dan. Mast. I'll have himn dance.

Jenny. You may stand in need of him.

Sour. (Taking her aside.) Yes, tell him that when he will, without costing him a farthing, I'll bleed and purge him his bellyfull.

Dan. Mast. I have nothing to do with that; I'll have him dance, or have his blood.

Sour. The rascal! (muttering.)

Jenny. Sir, I can't work upon him; the madman will not hear reason; some harm will happen-we are alone.

Sour. 'Tis very true.

Jenny. Look on him; he has an ill look.

Sour. He has so (trembling).

Dan. Mast.

Make haste, I say, make haste.

Sour. Help! neighbours! murder!

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