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Lady T. Why you, to be sure. I said nothing-but there's no bearing your temper.

Sir P. No, no, madam: the fault's in your own temper. Lady T. Ay, you are just what my cousin Sophy said you would be.

Sir P. Your cousin Sophy is a forward impertinent gipsy.

Lady T. You are a great bear, I'm sure, to abuse my relations.

Sir P. Now may all the plagues of marriage be doubled on me, if ever I try to be friends with you any more! Ludy T. So much the better.

Sir P. No, no, madam: 'tis evident you never cared a pin for me, and I was a madman to marry you-a pert, rural coquette, that had refused half the honest 'squires in the neighbourhood.

Lady T. And I am sure I was a fool to marry you— an old dangling bachelor, who was single at fifty, only because he never could meet with any one who would have him. [Crosses, L.

Sir P. Ay, ay, madam; but you were pleased enough to listen to me: you never had such an offer before.

Lady T. No! didn't I refuse Sir Tivy Terrier, who every body said would have been a better match? for his estate is just as good as yours, and he has broke his neck since we have been married. [Crosses, R.

Sir P. (L.) I have done with you, madam! You are an unfeeling, ungrateful-but there's an end of every thing. I believe you capable of every thing that is bad.-Yes, madam, I now believe the reports relative to you and Charles, madam.-Yes, madam, you and Charles arenot without grounds

Lady T. (R.) Take care, Sir Peter! you had better not insinuate any such thing! I'll not be suspected without cause, I promise you.

Sir P. Very well, madam! very well! A separate maintenance as soon as you please. Yes, madam, or a divorce! I'll make an example of myself for the benefit of all old bachelors.

Lady T. Agreed! agreed!--And now, my dear Sir Peter, we are of a mind once more, we may be the happiest couple and never differ again, you know-ha! ha! ha! Well, you are going to be in a passion, I see, and I shall only interrupt you-so, bye-bye. [Exit, R. Sir P. Plagues and tortures! Can't I make her angry

either! Oh, I am the most miserable fellow! but I'll not bear her presuming to keep her temper: no! she may break my heart, but she sha'n't keep her temper. [Exit, R.

SCENE II.-Charles Surface's House.

Enter TRIP, Sir Oliver SurFACE, and MOSES, L. Trip. Here, master Moses! if you'll stay a moment, I'll try whether-what's the gentleman's name?

Sir O. Mr. Moses, what is my name?

Moses. Mr. Premium.

Trip. Premium-very well. [Exit Trip, taking snuff, R. Sir O. (R.) To judge by the servants, one wouldn't believe the master was ruined. But what!-sure, this was my brother's house?

Moses. (L.) Yes, sir; Mr. Charles bought it of Mr. Joseph, with the furniture, pictures, &c. just as the old gentleman left it. Sir Peter thought it a piece of extravagance in him.

Sir O. In my mind, the other's economy in selling it to him was more reprehensible by half.

Re-enter TRIP, R.

Trip. My master says you must wait, gentlemen: he has company, and can't speak with you yet.

Sir O. If he knew who it was wanted to see him, perhaps he would not send such a message?

Trip. Yes, yes, sir: he knows you are here--I did not forget little Premium: no, no, no.

Sir O. Very well; and I pray, sir, what may be your name?

Trip. Trip, sir; my name is Trip, at your service.

Sir O. Well then, Mr. Trip, you have a pleasant sort of place here, I guess?

Trip. Why, yes-here are three or four of us pass our time agreeably enough; but then our wages are sometimes a little in arrcar-and not very great either-but fifty pounds a year, and find our own bags and bouquets. [Crosses to Moses. Sir O. Bags and bouquets! halters and bastinadoes! [Aside. Trip. And, a-propos, Moses-have you been able to get me that little bill discounted?

Sir O. Wants to raise money too!-mercy on me! Has his distresses too, I warrant, like a lord, and affects creditors and duns.

[Aside.

Moses. (L) 'Twas not to be done, indeed, Mr. Trip. [Gives Trip the note. Trip. (c.) Good lack, you surprise me! My friend Brush has indorsed it, and I thought when he put his name at the back of a bill 'twas the same as cash.

Moses. No! 'twouldn't do.

Trip. A small sum-but twenty pounds. Hark'ee, Moses, do you think you couldn't get it me by way of annuity?

Sir O. (R.) An annuity! ha! ha! a footman raise money by way of annuity! Well done, luxury, egad! [Aside. Trip. O with all my heart! I'll ensure my place, and my life too, if you please.

Moses. Well, but you must ensure your place.

[Aside.

Sir O. It's more than I would your neck. Moses. But is there nothing you could deposit ? Trip. Why, nothing capital of my master's wardrobe has dropped lately; [Bell rings, R.] but I could give you a mortgage on some of his winter clothes, with equity of redemption before November--or you shall have the reversion of the French velvet, or a post-obit on the blue and silver [Bell rings R.] these, I should think, Moses, with a few pair of point ruffles, as a collateral security. [Bell rings, R.]-Egad, [Crosses, R.] I heard the bell! I believe, gentlemen, I can now introduce you. Don't forget the annuity, little Moses! This way, gentlemen. I'll insure my place, you know.

:

Sir O. If the man be a shadow of the master, this is the temple of dissipation indeed! [Exeunt, R.

SCENE III.-Antique Hall.

CHARLES SURFACE, CARELESS, SIR HARRY, &c. at a table, with wine, &c.

Charles S. [Seated at the head of the table.] 'Fore heaven, 'tis true!-there's the great degeneracy of the age. Many of our acquaintance have taste, spirit, and politeness; but, plague on't, they won't drink wine.

Care. [Seated R of table.] It is so indeed, Charles! they give into all the substantial luxuries of the table, and abstain from nothing but wine and wit. O, certainly society suffers by it intolerably: for now, instead of the social spirit of raillery that used to mantle over a glass of bright Burgundy, their conversation is become just like

the Spa water they drink, which has all the pertness and flatulency of Champaigne, without its spirit or flavour.

Sir H. [Seated L. of table.] But what are they to do who love play better than wine?

Care. True: there's Sir Harry diets himself for gaming, and is now under a hazard regimen.

Charles. Then he'll have the worst of it. What! you wouldn't train a horse for the course by keeping him from corn? For my part, egad! I am never so successful as when I am a little merry: let me throw on a bottle of Champaigne, and I never lose.

All. Hey, what?

Charles S. At least, I never feel my losses, which is exactly the same thing.

Care. Ay, that I believe.

Charles S. And then, what man can pretend to be a believer in love, who is an abjurer of wine? "Tis the test by which the lover knows his own heart. Fill a dozen bumpers to a dozen beauties, and she that floats at the top is the maid that has bewitched you.

Care. Now then, Charles, be honest, and give us your real favourite.

Charles S. Why, I have withheld her only in compassion to you. If I toast her, you must give a round of her peers, which is impossible on earth.

Care. Oh! then we'll find some canonized vestals, or heathen goddesses that will do, I warrant!

Charles S. Here then, bumpers, you rogues! bumpers! Maria! Maria!

Sir H. Maria who?

Charles S. O damn the surname 'tis too formal to be registered in Love's calendar ;-Maria!

All. Maria!

[They drink.

Charles S. But now, Sir Harry, beware, we must have beauty superlative.

Cure. Nay, never study, Sir Harry: we'll stand to the toast, though your mistress should want an eye, and you know you have a song will excuse you.

Sir H. Egad, so I have! and I'll give him the song. instead of the lady.

SONG.

Here's to the maiden of bashful fifteen;
Here's to the widow of fifty;

Here's to the flaunting extravagant quean,
And here's to the housewife that's thrifty.

Chorus. Let the toast pass,

Drink to the lass,

I'll warrant she'll prove an excuse for the glass.
Here's to the charmer whose dimples we prize;
Now to the maid who has none, sir:

Here's to the girl with a pair of blue eyes,
And here's to the nymph with but one, sir.

Chorus. Let the toast pass, &c.

Here's to the maid with a bosom of snow
Now to her that's as brown as a berry:
Here's to the wife with a face full of woe,
And now to the damsel that's merry.

Chorus. Let the toast pass, &c.

;

For let 'em be clumsy, or let 'em be slim,
Young or ancient, I care not a feather;
So fill up your glasses, nay, fill to the brim,
And let us e'en toast them together.

Chorus. Let the toast pass, &c.

Ail. Bravo! Bravo!

Enter TRIP, R., and whispers CHARLES SURFACE.

Charles S. Gentlemen, you must excuse me a little. Careless, take the chair, will you? [Rises, and comes forward R. Care. [Rises and comes down, L.] Nay, prithee, Charles, what now? This is one of your peerless beauties, suppose, has dropt in by chance?

Charles S. No, faith! To tell you the truth, 'tis a Jew and a broker, who are come by appointment.

Care. O damn it! let's have the Jew in.

Sir H. Ay, and the broker too, by all means.
Care. Yes, yes, the Jew and the broker.

Charles S. Egad, with all my heart! Trip, bid the gentlemen walk in-[Exit Trip, R.]-though there's one of them a stranger, I can assure you.

Care. Charles, let us give them some generous Burgundy, and perhaps they'll grow conscientious.

Charles S. O hang'em, no! wine does but draw forth a man's natural qualities; and to make them drink would only be to whet their knavery.

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