Furnish. I am an upholsterer, sir, and am come to new-furnish your house.

Love. Out of my doors this instant, or Iwill disfurnish your head for you; I'll beat out your brains. (Beats the Tradesmen out.)

Oh

Mrs. Wise. Sure, sir, you are mad. Love. I was when I signed the contract. that I had never learnt to write my name! Mar. I suppose, sir, you expect to be finely spoken of abroad for this; you will get an excellent character in the world by this behaviour?

Mrs. Wise. Is this your gratitude to a woman who has refused so much better offers on your account?

Love. Oh, would she had taken them! Give me up my contract, and I will gladly resign all right and title whatsoever.

Mrs. Wise. It is too late now, the gentlemen have had their answers; a good offer, refused once, is not to be had again.

Enter LIST.

Love. Oh, Lappet! Lappet! the time thou hast prophesied of is come to pass. List. I am your honour's most humble servant. My name is List. I presume I am the person you sent for. The laceman will be here immediately. Will your honour be pleased to be taken measure of first, or look over the patterns? If you please, we will take measure first. I do not know, sir, who was so kind as to recommend me to you, but I believe I shall give you entire satisfaction. I may defy any tailor in England to understand the fashion better than myself; the thing is impossible, sir. I always visit France twice a year; and, though I say it, that should not say it-Stand upright, if you please, sir- (Taking measure.) Love. I'll take measure of your back, sirrah. I'll teach such pickpockets as you are to come here. Out of my doors, you villain!

List. Heyday, sir! did you send for me for this, sir? I shall bring you in a bill without any clothes. [Exit.

Enter LAPPET.

Lap. Where is my poor master? Oh, sir, I cannot express the affliction I am in, to see you devoured in this manner. How could you, sir, when I told you what a woman she was, how could undo yourself with your eyes open? Love. Poor Lappet! had I taken your advice I had been happy.

you

Lap. And too, sir; for, alack-a-day! I am as miserable as you are; feel everything for you, sir; indeed, shall break my heart upon your account.

Love. I shall be much obliged to you if you do, Lappet.

Lap. How could a man of your sense, sir, marry in so precipitate a manner?"

Love. I am not married; I am not married. Lap. Not married?

Love. No, no, no.

Lap. All's safe yet. No man is quite undone 'till he is married.

Love. I am, I am undone. Oh, Lappet! I cannot tell it thee. I have given her a bond, a bond, a bond of ten thousand pounds to marry her! Lap. You shall forfeit it.

Love. I'll be buried alive sooner. No; I am determined I'll marry her first, and hang myself afterwards, to save my money.

Lap. I see, sir, you are undone; and if you should hang yourself, I could not blame you.

Love. Could I but save one thousand by it, I would hang myself with all my soul. Shall I live to die not worth a groat? (A noise without.) Oh! oh! dear Lappet! see what it is; I shall be undone in an hour. [Exit Lappet.] Oh! oh! why did not I die a year ago? What a deal of money I should have saved had I died a year ago. Re-enter LAPPET.

Lap. Oh, sir! I am scarce able to tell you. It is spread about the town that you are married; flocks. There is one single debt for five thousand and your wife's creditors are coming in whole pounds, which an attorney is without to demand.

Love. Oh! oh! oh! let them cut my throat. Lap. Think what an escape you have had; think if you had married her.

Love. I am as bad as married to her.

Lap. It is impossible, sir; nothing can be so bad. What! you are to pay her ten thousand pounds: well, and ten thousand pounds are a sum; they are a sum, I own it-they are a sum; but, what is such a sum, compared with such a wife? If you marry her, in one week you will be in a prison, sir.

Love. If I am, I can keep my money; they can't take that from me.

Lap. Suppose, sir, it were possible, (not that I believe it is,) but suppose it were possible to make her abate a little; suppose one could bring her to eight thousand?

Love. Eight thousand devils take her!

immediately, for every minute you lose, you lose Lap. But, dear sir! consider, nay, consider

a sum. Be resolute, sir; consider every guinea you give saves you a score.

Love. Well, if she will consent to, to, to,

eight hundred-but try, do try, if you can make her 'bate anything of that; if you can, you shall have a twentieth part of what she 'bates for yourself.

Lap. Why, sir, if you could get off at eight thousand, you ought to leap out of your skin for joy.

Love. I wish I was out of my skin.

Lap. (Knocking without.) So, so, more duns, suppose. Go but into the kitchen, sir, or the hall, and it will have a better effect on you than

all I can say.

Love. What shall I do? Part with eight thousand pounds! I shall run distracted either way. [Exit.

Lap. Ah! would we could once prove you so, you old covetous good-for-nothing.

Enter MARIANA.

Mar. Well, what success?

Lap. It is impossible to tell; he is just gone into the kitchen, where, if he is not frightened into our design, I shall begin to despair. They say fear will make a coward brave, but nothing can make him generous; the very fear of losing all he is worth, will scarce bring him to part with a penny.

Mar. And have you acquainted Frederick with my intentions?

Lap. Neither, I assure you. Ah, madam, had

I not been able to have kept a secret, I had never brought about those affairs that I have; were I not secret, lud have mercy upon many a virtuous woman's reputation in this town!

Enter LOVEGold.

Love. I am undone! I am undone! I am eat up! I am devoured! I have an army of cooks in my house.

Lap. Dear madam, consider; I know eight thousand pounds are a trifle; I know they are nothing; my master can very well afford them; they will make no hole in his purse; and if you should stand out you will get more.

Love. (Putting his hand before Lappet's mouth.) You lie, you lie, you lie, you lie, you lie; she never could get more; never should get more; it is more than I am worth; it is an immense sum; and I will be starved, drowned, shot, hanged, burnt, before I part with a penny of it.

Lap. For heaven's sake, sir, you will ruin all. Madam, let me beg you, intreat you, to 'bate these two thousand pounds. Suppose a lawsuit should be the consequence, I know my master would be cast; I know it would cost him an immense sum of money, and that he would pay the charges of both in the end; but you might be kept out of it a long time. Eight thousand pounds now, are better than ten five years hence.

Mar. No; the satisfaction of my revenge on a man who basely departs from his word, will make me amends for the delay; and whatsoever I suffer, as long as I know his ruin will be the consequence, I shall be easy.

Love. Oh, bloody-minded wretch!

Lup. Why, sir, since she insists on it, what does it signify? You know you are in her power, and it will be only throwing away more money to be compelled to it at last; why, sir, get rid of her at once: what are two thousand pounds? Why, sir, the Court of Chancery will eat it up for a breakfast: it has been given for a mistress, and will you not give it to be rid of a wife? Besides, sir (They whisper.)

Love. How! and will you swear a robbery against her? that she robbed me of what I shall give her? (Aside to Lap.)

Lap. Depend on it, sir. (Aside to Love.) Love. I'll break open a bureau to make it look the more likely. (Aside to Lap.)

Lap. Do so, sir; but lose no time; give it her this moment. Madam, my master has consented, and if you have the contract he is ready to pay the money. -Be sure to break open the bureau, sir. (Aside to Love.)

Mar. Here is the contract.

Love. I'll break open the bureau. (Aside to Lap.)
Lap. Do, sir. (Aside to Love.)

Love. But won't that spoil the lock? (Aside to Lap.)

Lap. Psha! never mind the lock. (Aside to Love.) Love. I'll fetch the money; 'tis all I am worth in the world. [Exit. Mar. Sure he will never be brought to it yet. Lap. I warrant him: but you are to pay dearer for it than you imagine, for I am to swear a robbery against you. What will you give me, madam, to buy off my evidence?

Mar. And is it possible that the old rogue would consent to such a villainy?

Lap. Aye, madam; for half that sum he would hang half the town. But truly I can never be made amends for all the pains I have taken on your account. Were I to receive a single guinea a lie, for every one I have told this day, it would make me a pretty tolerable fortune.

Enter LOVEGold.

Love. Here, here they are-all in bank notes

all the money I am worth in the world. I have sent for a constable; she must not go out of sight before we have her taken into custody. (Aside to Lap.)

Lap. (To Love.) You have done very wisely. Love. (Counting the notes as he gives them.) One, two, three, four, five, six, eight.

Mar. No, sir, there are only seven.

Love. (Gives her another.) Eight, nine, ten.Give me my contract. (She gives it and he tears it.) Mar. Now, sir, I have nothing to do but to make myself as easy as I can in my loss.

Love. Oh! my money! my money! my money. Enter FREDERICK.

Fred. If this lady does not make you amends for the loss of your money, resign over all pretensions in her to me, and I will engage to get it restored to you.

Love. How, sirrah! are you a confederate? have you helped to rob me?

Fred. Softly, sir, or you shall never see your guineas again.

Love. I resign her over to you entirely, and may you both starve together! So, go fetch my gold. Mar. You are easily prevailed upon,

see, to

resign a right which you have not. But were I to resign over myself it would hardly be the man's fortune to starve, whose wife has brought him ten thousand pounds.

Love. Bear witness she has confessed she has the money, and I shall prove she stole it from me. Lappet is my evidence. She has broken the bureau, with a great kitchen poker.

Lap. I hope I shall have all your pardons, and particularly your's, madam, whom I have most injured.

Love. A fig for her pardon! you are doing a right action.

Lap. Then if there were any robbery, you must have robbed yourself. This lady can only be a receiver of stolen goods, for I saw you give her the money with your own hands.

Love. How! I! you! what! what!

Lap. And I must own it, with shame I must own it, that the money you gave her, in exchange for the contract, I promised to swear she had stolen from you.

Love. I am undone, undone, undone!

Fred. No, sir, your three thousand guineas are safe yet.

Love. But then the ten thousand, where are they? Mar. Where they ought to be, in the hand of one who I think deserves them. (Gives them to Frederick.)

Love. Sirrah! give me my notes, give me my

notes.

Fred. You must excuse me, sir; I can part with nothing I receive from this lady.

Lap. Be pacified, sir; I think the lady has acted nobly in giving that back again into your family which she might have carried out of it.

Love. My family be hanged! If I am robbed, I don't care who robs me. I would as soon hang my son as another; and I will hang him if he does not restore me all I have lost: for I would not give half that sum to save the whole world. I will go and employ all the lawyers in town; for I will have my money again, if law, justice, or injustice, will get it me. [Exit.

Fred. I am resolved we will get the better of him now but oh, Mariana! your generosity is much greater in bestowing this sum than my happiness in receiving it. From what we have seen lately, I think riches are rather to be feared than wished; but it is the miser endeavours to be wretched.

He hoards eternal cares within his purse,
And what he wishes most, proves most his curse,

FND OF THE MISER.

ACT I.

SCENE I-A Hall in Sir John Lambert's house. Enter SIR JOHN LAMBERT, followed by COLONEL LAMBERT.

Col. Lamb. Pray consider, sir. Sir. J. Lamb. So I do, sir, that I am her father, and will bestow her as I please.

Col. Lamb. I do not dispute your authority, sir; but as I am your son too, I think it my duty to be concerned for your honour. Have not you countenanced his addresses to my sister? Has not she received them? Mr. Darnley's birth and fortune are well known to you; and I dare swear, he may defy the world to lay a blemish on his character.

Sir J. Lamb. Why then, sir, since I am to be catechised, I must tell you, I do not like his character; he is a world-server, a libertine, and has no more religion than you have.

Col. Lamb. Sir, we neither of us think it proper to make a boast of our religion; but, if you will please to inquire, you will find that we go to church as orderly as the rest of our neighbours. Sir J. Lamb. Oh! you go to church; you go to church. Wonderful! wonderful! to bow, and grin, and cough, and sleep: a fine act of devotion, indeed! Col. Lamb. Well, but dear sir

Sir J. Lamb. Colonel, you are an atheist. Col. Lamb. Pardon me, sir, I am none. It is a character I abhor; and next to that, I abhor the character of an enthusiast.

Sir J. Lamb. Oh! you do so; an enthusiast! this is the fashionable phrase, the bye-word, the nick-name that our pleasure-loving generation give to those few who have a sense of true sanctity. Col. Lamb. Say canting, sir.

Sir J. Lamb. I tell you what, son, as I have told you more than once, you will draw some heavy judgment on your head some day or other.

Col. Lamb. So says the charitable Doctor Cantwell; ; you have taken him into your house, and, in return, he gives over half your family to the devil. Sir J. Lamb. Do not abuse the Doctor, Colonel;

OLD LADY LAMBERT LADY LAMBERT

CHARLOTTE BETTY

it is not the way to my favour. I know you cannot bear him, because he is not one of your mincing preachers: he holds up the glass to your enormities, shews you to yourselves in your genuine colours.

Col. Lamb. I always respect piety and virtue, sir; but there are pretenders to religion, as well as to courage; and as we never find the truly brave to be such as make much noise about their valour, so, I apprehend, the truly good seldom or never deal much in grimace.

Sir J. Lamb. Very well, sir; this is very well. Col. Lamb. Besides, sir, I would be glad to know, by what authority the Doctor pretends to exercise the clerical function. It does not appear clearly to me that he ever was in orders.

Sir J. Lamb. That is no business of your's, sir. But I am better informed. However, he has the call of zeal.

Col. Lamb. Zeal!

Sir J. Lamb. Why, Colonel, yon are in a passion.

Col. Lamb. I own, I cannot see with temper, sir, so many religious mountebanks impose on the unwary multitude; wretches, who make a trade of religion, and shew an uncommon concern for the next world, only to raise their fortunes with greater security in this.

Sir J. Lamb. Colonel, let me hear no more; I see you are too hardened to be converted now; but since you think it your duty, as a son, to be concerned for my errors, I think it as much mine, as a father, to be concerned for your's. If you think fit to amend them, so; if not, take the consequence.

Col. Lamb. Well, sir, may I ask you without offence, if the reasons you have given me are your only reasons for discountenancing Mr. Darnley's addresses to my sister?

Sir J. Lamb. Are they not flagrant? Would you have me marry my daughter to a pagan?

Col. Lamb. He intends this morning paying his respects to you, in hopes to obtain your final consent; and desired me to be present as a mediator of articles between you.,

Sir J. Lamb. I am glad to hear it. Col. Lamb. That's kind, indeed, sir. Sir J. Lamb. May be not, sir; for I will not be at home when he comes; and because I will not tell a lie for the matter, I will go out this moment. Col. Lamb. Nay, dear sir

Charl. And who is it? who is it, dear brother? Col. Lamb. Why you don't so much as seem surprised!

Charl. No, but I'm impatient, and that's as well. Col. Lamb. Why, how now, sister?

Col. Lamb. If you are, you are the first that ever was sincere enough to own her being so. Charl. To a lover, I grant you; but not to you; I make no more of you than a sister; I can say anything to you.

Enter CHARlotte.

Sister, good morrow; I want to speak with you.

Chari. Prythee, then, dear brother, don't put on that wise, politic face, as if your regiment were going to be disbanded, or sent to the West Indies, and you obliged to follow it.

Col. Lamb. Come, come; a truce with your raillery; what I have to ask of you is serious; and I beg you would be so in your answer.

Charl. Well, then, provided it is not upon the subject of love, I will be so; but make haste too, for I have not had my tea yet.

Col. Lamb. Why, it is, and it is not, on that subject. Charl. Oh, I love a riddle, dearly. Let's hear it. Col. Lamb. Nay, psha! if you'll be serious, say so. Charl. O lard, sir; I beg your pardon-therethere's my whole form and features totally disengaged and lifeless, at your service; now, put them in what posture of attention you may think fit. (Leaning against him awkwardly.)

Col. Lamb. Was there ever such a giddy devil! Pr'ythee, stand up. I have been talking with my father, and he declares, positively, you shall not receive any further addresses from Mr. Darnley. Charl. Are you serious?

Col. Lamb. He said so this minute, and with some warmth.

Charl. I'm glad on't, with all my heart.
Col. Lamb. How! glad!

Charl. To a degree. Do you think a man has any more charms for me for my father's liking him? No, sir: if Mr. Darnley can make his way to me now, he is obliged to me, and to me only. Besides, now it may have the face of an amour indeed, now one has something to struggle for; there's difficulty, there's danger, there's the dear spirit of contradiction in it too. Oh, I like it mightily!

Col. Lamb. I am glad this does not make you think the worse of Darnley; but a father's consent might have clapt a pair of horses more to your coach, perhaps, and the want of it may pinch your fortune.

Charl. Burn fortune! Am not I a fine woman? and have not I twenty thousand pounds in my own hands?

Col. Lamb. Yes, sister, but with all your charms, you have had them in your possession almost these four years.

Charl. Psha! and have not I had the full swing of my own airs and humours these four years? But if I humour my father, I warrant he'll make it three or four thousand more, with some unlick'd lout; a comfortable equivalent, truly! No, no; let him light his pipe with his consent, if he please. Wilful against wise, for a wager.

Col. Lamb. But pray, sister, has my father ever proposed any other man to you?

Charl. Another man! let me know why you ask, and I'll tell you.

Col. Lamb. Why, the last words he said to me were, that he had another man in his head for you.

Col. Lamb. I should have been better pleased, if you had not owned it to me; it's a hateful character. Charl. Ay, it's no matter for that; it's violently pleasant, and there's no law against it, that I know of.

Col. Lamb. Darnley's like to have a hopeful time with you.

Charl. Well, but don't you really know who it is my father intends me?

Col. Lamb. Not I really; but I imagined you might, and therefore thought to advise with you about it. Charl. Nay, he has not opened his lips to me yet. Are you sure he's gone out?

Col. Lamb. You are very impatient to know, methinks; what have you to do to concern yourself about any man but Darnley?

Charl. Olud! O lud! Pr'ythee, brother, don't be so wise; if you had an empty house to let, would you be displeased to hear there were two people about it? Besides, to be a little serious, Darnley has a tincture of jealousy in his temper, which nothing but a substantial rival can cure.

Col. Lamb. Oh, your servant, madam! now you talk reason. I am glad you are concerned enough for Darnley's faults, to think them worth your mending-ha, ha!

Charl. Concerned! why did I say that? Look you, I'll deny it all to him; well, if I ever am serious with him again

Col. Lamb. Here he comes; be as merry with him as you please.

Charl. Psha! (Charlotte sits down, takes a book, and reads.) Enter DARNLEY,

Darn. My dear Colonel, your servant.

Col. Lamb. I am glad you did not come sooner; for in the humour my father left me, 'twould not have been a proper time for you to have pressed your affair. I touched upon it, but, I'll tell you more presently; in the meantime, lose no ground with my sister.

Darn. I shall always think myself obliged to your friendship, let my success be what it will. Madam, your most obedient. What have you got there, pray?

Charl. (Reading.) Her lively looks a sprightly mind disclose;

Quick as her eyes, and as unfix'd as those, Darn. Pray, madam, what is it?

Charl. Favours to none, to all she smiles extends ; Darn. Nay, I will see.

Charl.

Oft she rejects, but never once offends. Col. Lamb. Have a care; she has dipt into her own character, and she'll never forgive you, if you don't let her go through with it.

Darn. I beg your pardon, madam. [strike, Charl. Bright as the sun, her eyes the gazers And like the sun they shine on all alike. Um !— Darn. That is something like, indeed. Col. Lamb. You would say so, if you knew all. Darn. All what? Pray what do you mean? Col. Lamb. Have a little patience; I'll tell you immediately.

Charl. If to her share some female errors fall, Look on her face, and you'll forget them all. Is not that natural, Mr. Darnley?