Imatges de pàgina
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Lofty. From this moment you 're mine. Yes, my friend, you shall know it - I'm in love.

Honey. And can I assist you?

Lofty. Nobody so well.

Honey. In what manner? I'm all impatience.

Lofty. You shall make love for me.

Honey. And to whom shall I speak in your favour?

Lofty. To a lady with whom you have great interest, I assure you: Miss Richland.

Honey. Miss Richland!

Lofty. Yes, Miss Richland. She has struck the blow up to the hilt in my bosom, by Jupiter!

Honey. Heavens! was ever any thing more unfortunate? It is too much to be endured.

Lofty. Unfortunate, indeed! And yet I can endure it, till you have opened the affair to her for me. Between ourselves, I think she likes me. I'm not apt to boast, but I think she does. Honey. Indeed! But, do you know the person you apply

to?

Lofty. Yes, I know you are her friend and mine: that's enough. To you, therefore, I commit the success of my passion. I'll say no more, let friendship do the rest. I have only to add, that if at any time my little interest can be of service — but, hang it, I'll make no promises - you know my interest is yours at any time. No apologies, my friend, I'll not be answered; it shall be so. [Exit.

Honey. Open, generous, unsuspecting man! He little thinks that I love her too; and with such an ardent passion! But then it was ever but a vain and hopeless one; my torment, my persecution! What shall I do? Love, friendship; a hopeless passion, a deserving friend! Love, that has been my tormentor; & friend, that has, perhaps, distressed himself to serve me. It shall be so. Yes, I will discard the fondling hope from my boand exert all my influence in his favour. And yet to see her Insupportable! But then to betray a generous, trusting friend! Worse, worse! Yes, I'm resolved. Let me but be the instrument of their happiness, and

som,

in the possession of another!

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then quit a country where I must for ever despair of finding my

own.

[Exit.

Enter OLIVIA and Garnet, who carries a milliner's box.

Olivia. Dear me, I wish this journey were over. No news of Jarvis yet? I believe the old peevish creature delays purely to

vex me.

Garn. Why, to be sure, Madam, I did hear him say, a little snubbing before marriage would teach you to bear it the better afterwards.

Olivia. To be gone a full hour, though he had only to get a bill changed in the city! How provoking!

Garn. I'll lay my life, Mr. Leontine, that had twice as much to do, is setting off by this time from his inn; and here you are left behind.

Olivia. Well, let us be prepared for his coming, however. Are you sure you have omitted nothing, Garnet?

Garn. Not a stick, Madam all 's here. Yet I wish you could take the white and silver to be married in. It's the worst luck in the world, in any thing but white. I knew one Bett Stubbs, of our town, that was married in red; and, as sure as eggs is eggs, the bridegroom and she had a miff before morning.

Olivia. No matter. I'm all impatience till we are out of the house.

ring!

Garn. Bless me, Madam, I had almost forgot the wedding The sweet little thing I don't think it would go on my little finger. And what if I put in a gentleman's night-cap, in case of necessity, Madam? But here 's Jarvis.

Enter JARVIS.

Olivia. O Jarvis, are you come at last? We have been ready this half hour. Now let's be going. Let us fly!

Jarv. Ay, to Jericho; for whe shall have no going to Scotland this bout, I fancy.

Olivia. How! what's the matter?

Jarv. Money, money, is the matter, Madant. We have got no money. What the plague do you send me of your fool's

errand for? My master's bill upon the city is not worth a rush. Here it is; Mrs. Garnet may pin up her hair with it.

Olivia. Undone! How could Honeywood serve us so! What shall we do? Can't we go without it?

Jarv. Go to Scotland without money! To Scotland without money! Lord, how some people understand geography! We might as well set sail for Patagonia upon a cork-jacket.

Olivia. Such a disappointment! What a base insincere man was your master, to serve us in this manner! Is this his goodnature?

Jarv. Nay, don't talk ill of my master, Madam. I won't bear to hear any body talk ill of him but myself.

Garn. Bless us! now I think on't, Madam, you need not be under any uneasiness: I saw Mr. Leontine receive forty guineas from his father just before he set out, and he can't yet have left the inn. A short letter will reach him there.

Olivia. Well remembered, Garnet; I'll write immediately. How's this! Bless me, my hand trembles so, I can't write a word. Do you write, Garnet; and, upon second thought, it will be better from you.

Garn. Truly, Madam, I write and indite but poorly. I never was cute at my learning. But I'll do what I can to please you. Let me see. All out of my own head, I suppose!

Olivia. Whatever you please.
Garn. (Writing.) Muster Croaker

Madam?

Olivia. Ay, twenty will do.

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Twenty guineas,

Garn. At the bar of the Talbot till called for. Expedition

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Will be blown up — All of a flame the little god of love. I conclude it, love to see a love-letter end like poetry.

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Olivia. Well, well, what you please, any thing. But how shall we send it? I can trust none of the servants of this family. Garn. Odso, Madain, Mr. Honeywood's butler is in the next room: he's a dear, sweet man; he 'll do any thing for me. Jarv. He! the dog, he 'll certainly commit some blunder. He's drunk and sober ten times a-day.

Olivia. No matter. Fly, Garnet; any body we can trust will do. (Exit Garnet.) Well, Jarvis, now we can have nothing more to interrupt us; you may take up the things, and carry them on to the inn. Have you no hands, Jarvis?

Jarv. Soft and fair, young lady. You, that are going to be married, think things can never be done too fast; but we, that are old, and know what we are about, must elope methodically, Madam.

Olivia. Well, sure, if my indiscretions were to be done over again

Jarv. My life for it, you would do them ten times over. Olivia. Why will you talk so? If you knew how unhappy they make me

Jarv. Very unhappy, no doubt: I was once just as unhappy when I was going to be married myself. I'll tell you a story about

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Olivia. A story! when I'm all impatience to be away. Was there ever such a dilatory creature!

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Jarv. Well, Madam, if we must march, why we will march, that's all. Though, odds-bobs, we have still forgot one thing; we should never travel without - a case of good razors, and a box of shaving powder. But no matter, I believe we shall be pretty well shaved by the way.

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Enter GARNet.

[Going.

Garn. Undone, undone, Madam. Ah, Mr. Jarvis, you said right enough. As sure as death, Mr. Honeywood's rogue of a drunken butler dropped the letter before he went ten yards from the door. There's old Croaker has just picked it up, and is this moment reading it to himself in the hall.

Olivia. Unfortunate! we shall be discovered.

Garn. No, Madam; don't be uneasy; he can neither make head nor tail of it. To be sure he looks as if he was broke loose from Bedlam about it, but he can't find what it means for all that. O lud, he is coming this way all in the horrors!

Olivia. Then let us leave the house this instant, for fear he should ask further questions. In the mean time, Garnet, do you write and send off just such another. [Exeunt.

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Enter CROAKER.

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Cro. Death and destruction! Are all the horrors of air, fire, and water, to be levelled only at me? Am I only to be singled out for gunpowder-plots, combustibles, and conflagration? Here it is an incendiary letter dropped at my door. "To Muster Croaker, these with speed." Ay, ay, plain enough the direction; all in the genuine incendiary spelling, and as cramp as the devil. "With speed." O, confound your speed. But let me read it once more. (Reads) “Muster Croaker, as sone as yow see this, leve twenty gunnes at the bar of the Talboot tell called for, or yowe and yower experetion will be all blown up.' Ah, but too plain. Blood and gunpowder in every line of it. Blown up! murderous dog! all blown up! Heavens! what have I and my poor family done, to be all blown up? (Reads) "Our pockets are low, and money we must have." Ay, there's the reason; they'll blow us up, because they have got low pockets. (Reads) "It is but a short time you have to consider; for if this takes wind, the house will quickly be all of a flame." Inhuman monsters! blow us up, and then burn us! The earthquake at Lisbon was but a bonfire to it. (Reads) "Make quick dispatch, and so no more at present. But may Cupid, the little god of love, go with you wherever you go." The little god of love! Cupid, the little god of love, go with me! Go you to the devil, you and your little Cupid together. I'm so frightened, I scarce know whether I sit, stand, or go. Perhaps this moment I'm treading on lighted matches, blazing brimstone, and barrels of gunpowder. They are preparing to blow me up into the clouds. Murder! we shall be all burnt in our beds; we shall be all burnt in our beds.

Enter Miss RICHLAND.

Miss Rich. Lord, Sir, what's the matter?

Cro. Murder's the matter. Whe shall all be blown up in our beds before morning.

Miss Rich. I hope not, Sir.

Cro. What signifies what you hope, Madam, when I have a certificate of it here in my hand? Will nothing alarm my family? Sleeping and eating, sleeping and eating, is the only work from

Goldsmith.

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