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Leontine. Some new mark, I suppose, of Mr. incendiary? (Seizing the Postboy.) Hold him Yoneywood's sincerity. But we shall have satis- fast, the dog: he has the gallows in his face. Come, faction : he shall give me instant satisfaction. you dog, confess; confess all, and hang yourself.
Olivia. It must not be, my Leontine, if you Postboy. Zounds! master, what do you throttle value my esteem or my happiness. Whatever be me for? our fate, let us not add guilt to our misfortunes- Croaker (beating him.] Dog, do you resist ? do Consider that our innocence will shortly be all that you resist ? we have left us. You must forgive him.
Postboy. Zounds! master, I'm not he: there's Leontine. Forgive himn! Has he not in every the man that we thought was the rogue, and turns instance betrayed us ? Forced to borrow money out to be one of the company. from him, which appears a mere trick to delay us; Croaker. How! promised to keep my father engaged till we were Honeywood. Mr. Croaker, we have all been unout of danger, and here brought him to the very der a strange mistake here; I find there is nobody scene of our escape ?
guilty; it was all an error; entirely an error of our Olivia. Don't be precipitate. We may yet be own. mistaken.
Croaker. And I say, sir, that you're in an error;
for there's guilt and double guilt, a plot, a damnel Enter POSTBOY, dragging in JARVIS; HONEYWOOD jesuitical
, pestilential plot, and I must have proo: entering soon after.
of it. Postboy. Ay, master, we have him fast enough. Honeywood. Do but hear me. Here is the incendiary dog. I'm entitled to the Croaker. What, you intend to bring 'em off, I reward ; I'll take my oath I saw him ask for the suppose ? I'll hear nothing. money at the bar, and then run for it.
Honeywood. Madam, you seem at least calm Honeymoood. Come, bring him along. Let us enough to hear reason. see him. Let him learn to blush for his crimes.
Olivia. Excuse me. (Discovering his mistake.] Death! what's here? Honeywood. Good Jarvis, let me then explain it Jarvis, Leontine, Olivia! What can all this mean? to you.
Jardis. Why, I'll tell you what it means: that Jarris. What signifies explanations when the I was an old fool, and that you are my master thing is done ? that's all.
Honeywood. Will nobody hear me? Was there Honeywood. Confusion !
ever such a set, so blinded by passion and preju. Leontine. Yes, sir, I find you have kept your dice! (To the Postboy.] My good friend, I beword with me. After such baseness, I wonder lieve, you'll be surprised when I assure youhow you can venture to see the man you have in- Postboy. Sure me nothing-I'm sure of nothing jured?
but a good beating. Honeywood. My dear Leontine, by my life, my
Croaker. Come then you, madam, if you ever honour
hope for any favour or forgiveness, tell me sincereLeontine. Peace, peace, for shame; and do not ly all you know of this affair. continue to aggravate baseness by hypocrisy. I Olivia. Unhappily, sir, I'm but too much the know you, sir, I know you.
cause of your suspicions: you see before you, sir, Honeywood. Why won't you hear me? By all one that with false pretences has stepped into your that's just, I know not
family to betray it; not your daughterLeontine.' Hear you, sir, to what purpose? I
Croaker. Not my daughter ? now see through all your low arts; your ever com
Olivia. Not your daughter-but a mean de. plying with every opinion; your never refusing ceiver-who-support me, I can notany request: your friendship's as common as a Honeymood. Help, she's going; give her air. prostitute's favours, and as fallacious; all these, sir,
Croaker. Ay, ay, take the young woman to tho have long been contemptible to the world, and are air; I would not hurt a hair of her head, whosever now perfectly so to me.
daughter she may be not so bad as that neither. Honeywood. Ha! contemptible to the world!
(Exeunt all but Croaker. that reaches me.
Croaker. Yes, yes, all's out; I now see the Leontine. All the seeming sincerity of your whole affair; my son is either married, or going to professions, I now find, were only allurements to be so, to this lady, whom he imposed upon me as vetray; and all your seeming regret for their con- his sister. Ay, certainly so; and yet I don't finu sequences, only calculated to cover the cowardice it afflicts me so much as one might think. There's of your heart. Draw, villain!
the advantage of fretting away our misfortunes be
forehand, we never feel them when they come, Enter CROAKER, out of breath,
Enter MISS RICHLAND and SIR WILLIAM. Croakct. Where is the villain? Where is the Sir William. Bu: how do you know, madam
that my nephew intends setting off from this please! How have I over-taxed all my abilities, place?
lest the approbation of a single fool should escape Afiss Richland. My maid assured me he was me! But all is now over ; I have survived my repucome to this inn, and my own knowledge of his in- tation, my fortune, my friendships, and nothing tending to leave the kingdom suggested the rest. remains henceforward for me but solitude and reBut what do I see! my guardian here before us! pentance. Who, my dear sir, could have expected meeting Miss Richland. Is it true, Mr. Honeywood, tha you here? to what accident do we owe this plea- you are setting off, without taking leave of your sure?
friends? The report is, that you are quilting En Croaker. To a fool, I believe.
gland: Can it be? Miss Püründ. But to what purpose did you Honeywood. Yes, madam; and though I am so come ?
unhappy as to have fallen under your displeasure, Croaker. To play the fool.
yet, thank Heaven! I leave you to happiness; to Miss Richland. But with whom?
one who loves you, and deserves your love; to one Croaker. With greater fools than myself. who has power to procure you affluence, and geneMiss Richland. Explain.
rosity to improve your enjoyment of it. Croaker. Why, Mr. Honeywood brought me Miss Richland. And are you sure, sir, that the here to do nothing now I am here ; and my son is gentleman you mean is what you describe him?
oing to be married to I don't know who, that is Honeywood. I have the best assurances of itnere : so now you are as wise as I am.
his serving me. He does indeed deserve the highMiss Richland. Married ! to whom, sir ? est happiness, and that is in your power to confer.
Croaker. To Olivia, my daughter, as I took her As for me, weak and wavering as I have been, to be; but who the devil she is, or whose daughter obliged by all, and incapable of serving any, what she is, I know no more than the man in the moon. happiness can I find but in solitude ? what hope,
Sir William. Then, sir, I can inform you; and, but in being forgotten? though a stranger, yet you shall find me a friend Miss Richland. A thousand! to live among to your family. It will be enough, at present, to friends that esteem you, whose happiness it will be assure you, that both in point of birth and fortune to be permitted to oblige you. the young lady is at least your son's equal. Being Honeywood. No, madam, my resolution is fixed. left by her father, Sir James Woodville- Inferiority among strangers is easy; but among
Croaker. Sir James Woodville! What, of the those that once were equals, insupportable. Nay, west ?
to show you how far my resolution can go, I can Sir William. Being left by him, I say, to the now speak with calmness of my former follies, my care of a mercenary wretch, whose only aim was vanity, my dissipation, my weakness. I will even to secure her fortune to himself, she was sent to confess, that, among the number of my other preFrance, under pretence of education ; and there sumptions, I had the insolence to think of loving every art was tried to fix her for life in a convent, you. Yes, madam, while I was pleading the pascontrary to her inclinations. Of this I was inform- sion of another, my heart was tortured with its ed upon my arrival at Paris; and, as I had been own. But it is over: it was unworthy our friend. nce her father's friend, I did all in my power to ship, and let it be forgotten. frustrate her guardian's base intentions. I had Miss Richland. You amaze me! even meditated to rescue her from his authority, Honeywood. But you'll forgive it, I kn.)w you when your son stepped in with more pleasing vio- will; since the confession should not have come lence, gave her liberty, and you a daughter. from me even now, but to convince you of the sin
Croaker. But I intend to have a daughter of my cerity of my intention of_never mentioning it own choosing, sir. A young lady, sir, whose for- more.
Lofty. Is the coast clear? None but friends? I
have followed you here with a trifling piece of in(Croaker and Sir William scem to confer.
telligence; but it goes no farther, things are not yet
ripe for a discovery. I have spirits working at a Enter HONEYWOOD.
certain board; your affair at the treasury will be Honeywood. Obstinate man, still to persist in done in less than a thousand years. Mum! his outrage! Insulted by him, despised by all, I Miss Richland. Sooner, sir, I should hope. now begin to grow contemptible even to myself. Lofty. Why, yes, I believe it may, if it falls How have I sunk by too great an assiduity to linto proper hands, that know where to push and
where to parry ; that know how the land lies---ch, Croaker. And so it does, indeed ; and all my susHoneywood ?
picions are over. Miss Pichland. It has fallen into yours. Lofty. Your suspicions! What, then, you have
Lofty. Well, to keep you no longer in suspense, been suspecting, you have been suspecting, have your thing is done. It is done, I say—that's all. you ? Mr. Croaker, you and I were friends ; we I have just had assurances from Lord Neverout, are friends no longer. Never talk to me. It's over ; that the claim has been examined, and found ad. I say, it's over. missible. Quielus is the word, madam.
Croaker. As I hope for your favour I did not Honeywood. But how? his lordsirip has been at mean to offend. It escaped me. Don't be discom. Newmarket these ten days.
posed, Lofty. Indeed! Then Sir Gilbert Goose must Lofty. Zounds! sir, but I am discomposed, and have been most damnably mistaken. I had it of will be discomposed. To be treated thus! Who bim.
am I? Was it for this I have been dreaded both by Miss Richland. He! why Sir Gilbert and his ins and outs? Have I been libelled in the Gazetteer, family have been in the country this month. and praised in the St. James's? have I been chaired
Losy. This month! it must certainly be soat Wildman's, and a speaker at Merchant-Tailor's Sir Gilbert's letter did come to me from New- Hall? have I had my hand to addresses, and my market, so that he must have met his lordship there; head in the print-shops ; and talk to me of suspects? and so it came about. I have his letter about me;
Croaker. My dear sir, be pacified. What can l'll read it to you. (Taking out a large bundle.) you have but asking pardon? That's from Paoli of Corsica, that from the Mar
Lofty. Sir, I will not be pacified-Suspects ! quis of Squilachi.—Have you a mind to see a letter Who am I? To be used thus ! Have I paid court from Count Poniatowski, now King of Poland ?- to men in favour to serve my friends; the lords of Honest Pon [Searching.) O, sir, what are you the treasury, Sir William Honeywood, and the here too? I'll tell you what, honest friend, if you rest of the gang, and talk to me of suspects? Who have not absolutely delivered my letter to Sir Wil
am I, I say, who am I? liam Honeywood, you may return it. The thing
Sir William. Since, sir, you are so pressing for will do without him.
an answer, I'll tell you who you are:-A gentleSir William. Sir, I have delivered it; and must
man, as well acquainted with politics as with men inform you, it was received with the most mortify in power.; as well acquainted with persons of fashing contempt.
ion as with modesty; with lords of the treasury as Croaker. Contempt! Mr. Lofty, what can that with truth; and with all, as you are with Sir Wilmean?
liam Honeywood. I am Sir William Honeywood. Lofty. Let him go on, let him go on, I say.
(Discovering his ensigns of the Bath. You'll find it come to something presently. Croaker. Sir William Honeywood! Sir William. Yes, sir; I believe you'll be
Honeywood. Astonishment! my uncle! (Aside. amazed, if after waiting some time in the ante
Lofty. So then, my confounded genius has been chamber, after being surveyed with insolent curi- all this time only leading me up to the garret, in osity by the passing servants, I was at last assured, order to fling me out of the window. that Sir William Honeywood knew no such per- Croa.ber. What, Mr. Importance, and are these son, and I must certainly have been imposed upon. your works? Suspect you! You, who have been
Lofty. Good! let me die; very good. Ha! ha! dreaded by the ins and outs; you, who have had ha!
your hands to addresses, and your head stuck up Croaker. Now, for my life, I can't find out half in print-shops. If you were served right, you the goodness of it.
should have your head stuck up in a pillory. Lofly. You can't. Ha! ha!
Lof:y. Ay, stick it where you will; for by the Croaker. No, for the soul of me! I think it was lord, it cuts but a very poor figure where it sticks as confounded a bad answer as ever was sent from
present. one private gentleman to another.
Sir William. Well, Mr. Croaker, I hope you Lofty. And so you can't find out the force of the now see how incapable this gentleman is of servmessage? Why, I was in the house at that very sing you, and how little Miss Richland has to ex. time. Ha! ha! It was I that sent that very an-pect fronı his influence. swer to my own letter. Ha! ha!
Croaker. Ay, sir, too well I see it; and I can't Croaker. Indeed! How? Why?
but say I have had some boding of it these ten Lofty. In one word, things between Sir William days. So I'm resolved, since my son has placed and me must be behind the curtain. A party has his affections on a lady of moderate fortune, to be many eyes. He sides with Lord Buzzard, 1 side satisfied with his choice, and not run the hazard of with Sir Gilbert Goose. So that unriddles the another Mr. Lofty in helping him to a better. mystery.
Sir William. I approve your resolution; and
here they come to receive a confirmation of your my soul, I had no hand in the matter. So now pardon and consent.
if any of the company has a mind for prefermens,
he may take my place; I'm determined to resign. Enter MRS. CROAKER, JARVIS, LEONTINE, and
Honeymoood. How have I been deceived ! Mrs. Croaker. Where's my husband ? Come, Sir William. No, sir, you have been obliged to come, lovey, you must forgive them. Jarvis here a kinder, fairer friend, for that favour—to Miss has been to tell me the whole affair; and I say, you Richland. Would she complete our joy, and make inast forgive them. Our own was a stolen match, the man she has honoured by her friendship happy you know, my dear; and we never had any reason in her love, I should then forget all, and be as blest to repent of it.
as the welfare of my dearest kinsman can maku Creiker. I wish we could both say so. Howev- me. er, this gentleman, Sir William Honeywood, has Miss Richland. After what is past it would be been beforehand with you in obtaining their pardon. but affectation to pretend to indifference. Yes, I So if the two poor fools have a mind to marry, I will own an attachment, which I find was more think we can tack them together without crossing than friendship. And if my entreaties can not alter the Tweed for it. (Joining their hands. his resolution to quit the country, I will even try
Leontine. How blest and unexpected! What, if my hand has not power to detain him. (Giving what can we say to such goodness? But our fu- her hand.) ture obedience shall be the best reply. And as for Honeycood. Heavens! how can I have deserved this gentleman, to whom we owe
all this? How express my happiness, my gratitude? Sir William. Excuse me, sir, if I interrupt your A moment like this overpays an age of apprehenthanks, as I have here an interest that calls me. sion. [Turning to Honeywood.] Yes, sir, you are sur- Croaker. Well, now I see content in every face; prised to see me; and I own that a desire of cor- but Heaven send we be all better this day three recting your follies led me hither. I saw with in- months! dignation the errors of a mind that only sought ap- Sir William. Henceforth, nephew, learn to replause from others; that easiness of disposition spect yourself. He who seeks only for applause which, though inclined to the right, had not cou- from without, has all his happiness in another's rage to condemn the wrong. I saw with regret keeping. those splendid errors, that still took name from Honeywood. Yes, sir, I now too plainly persome neighbouring duty; your charity, that was but ceive my errors; my vanity in attempting to please injustice ; your benevolence, that was but weak- all by fcaring to offend any; my meanness, in apness; and your friendship but credulity. I saw proving folly lest fools should disapprove. Hencewith regret, great talents and extensive learning forth, therefore, it shall be my study to reserve my only employed to add sprightliness to error, and in- pity for real distress ; my friendship for true merit; crease your perplexities. I saw your mind with and my love for her, who first taught me what it a thousand natural charms; but the greatness of its is to be happy beauty served only to heighten my pity for its prostitution.
Honeyrood. Cease to upbraid me, sir : I have for some time but too strongly felt the justice of
EPILOGUE.* your reproaches. But there is one way still left ine.
SPOKEN BY MRS. BULKLEY. Yes, sir, I have determined this very hour to quit forever a place where I have made myself the volun
As puffing quacks some caitiff wretch procure tary slave of all
, and to seek among strangers that To swear the pill, or drop, has wrought a cure; fortitude which may give strength to the mind, and Thus, on the stage, our play-wrights still depend marshal all its dissipated virtues. Yet ere I de- For epilogues and prologues on some friend, part, permit me to solicit favour for this gentle. Who knows each art of coaxing up the town, man; who, notwithstanding what has happened, And make full many a bitter pill go down. has laid me under the most signal obligations. Mr. Conscious of this, our bard has gone about, Lofty
And teased each rhyming friend to help him out. Lofty. Mr. Honeywood, I'm resolved upon a re- An epilogue, things can't go on without it; formation as well as you. I now begin to find that it could not fail
, would you but set about it. the man who first invented the art of speaking truth, was a much cunninger fellow than I thought him. And to prove that I design to speak truth osforul
, deferred writing one himsell till the very last hour.
• The author, in expectation of an Epilogue from a friend as for the future, I must now assure you, that you what is here offered, owes all its success to the graceful man owe your late enlargenient to another; as, upon ner of the actress who spoke it
Young man, cries one (a bard laid up in clover,) As some unhappy wight at some new play,