Widow. Hold your prattle, child.

Sophia. Ah, I'm sure you'll make him happy, and pay his debts.

Widow. Why, Jenny.

Sulky. You won't?

Calling.

Enter JENNY, L.

Sophia. La, dear sir, have patience

Sulky. You are an angel; [To SOPHIA.] And you are [To WIDOW.]

[Exit, L. Sophia. Nay, pray, sir, do stay! [Exit following. Widow. I am glad the monster is gone; he is a very intolerable person.-Pray, Jenny, how did it happen that Mr. Dornton went away without seeing me?

Enter SERVANT and SILKY, L.

Servant. Mr. Silky, madam.

Widow. Leave us, Jenny. [Exit JENNY, R.] So, Mr. Silky.-What is this very urgent business of yours?

Sil. (L.) [Looking cautiously round.] Are we safe, madam? Will nobody interrupt us; nobody over-hear us?

Widow. (c.) No, no.-But what is the meaning of all this caution?

Sil. [Carefully drawing the will from his pocket.] -Do you know this hand-writing, madam? [Both sit. Widow. Ah!-It is my poor old dear man's, I see. Sil. You have heard of a will he left in France? Widow. Pshaw! Will, indeed! He left no will. Sil. Yes, he did, madam.

Widow. I won't believe it! He loved me too well to rob me of a single guinea! Poor simple soul! I was his darling!

Sil. His darling, madam ?-With your permission, I will just read a single clause, in which his darling is mentioned! Look, madam; it is the alderman's hand! [Reads.] "But as I have sometimes painfully suspected the excessive affection which my said wife, Winifred Warren, professed for me during my decline, and that the solemn protestations she made never to marry again, should she survive me, were both done with si

nister views, it is my will that, should she marry, or give a legal promise of marriage, written or verbal, that she shall be cut off with an annuity of six hundred a year; and the residue of my effects in that case to be equally divided between my natural son, John Milford, and my wife's daughter, Sophia Freelove."

Widow. Six hundred a year! An old dotard ! brute ! monster! I hate him now as heartily as when he was alive! But pray, sir, how came you by this will?

Sil. Why it was odd enough! And yet easy enough: My name is Silky, madam

Widow. Well?

Sil. And you know the executor's name is SulkyWidow. Well?

Sil. The gentleman that delivered it only made a mistake of a letter, and gave it to Mr. Silky instead of Mr. Sulky.

Widow. And where is that gentleman?

Sil. Ah, poor man-He is dead.

Widow. Dead?

Sil. And gone.

Widow. And does Mr. Sulky know of this will being delivered?

Sil. Not a syllable; it's all close and smooth.

Widow. So much the better.-Come, give it me, and

Sil. Excuse me there, madam; I can't do that.
Widow. Why so?

Sil. My conscience won't let me; I must provide for my family.

Widon. And pray what provision is this will to make for your family, Mr. Silky?

Sil. Why, madam, I have a proposal.-You know the power of your own charms.

Widow. Which I believe is more than you do, Mr. Silky

Sil. Hah; don't say so, madam ;--Don't say so; Would I were a handsome, rich and well-born youth: -But you know Mr. Goldfinch ?-Ah, ha, ha, ha; I could tell you a secret!

Widow. What, that he is dying for me, I suppose? Sil. Ah!-So smitten!-Talks of nothing else! Widow. And is that any secret, think you?

Sil. The alderman I find died worth more than a plum and a half

Widow. Well?

Sil. I have talked the matter over with my friend, Mr. Goldfinch, and he thinks it but reasonable, that for a secret of so much importance, which would almost sweep the whole away, I should receive one third. Widow. Fifty thousand pounds, Mr. Silky?

Sil. I can't take less.

Widow. Why you are a greater rogue than even I thought you!

Sil. Lord, madam, it's no roguery; its only a knowledge of the world; a young husband with a hundred thousand pounds, or poor six hundred a year without any husband.

Widow. You are a very shocking old miser, Mr. Silky; a very repulsive sort of a person; what heart you had is turned to stone; you are insensible of the power of a pair of fine eyes; but I have made a conquest that places me beyond your reach-I mean to marry Mr. Dornton.

Sil. [Rising surprised.] What! old Mr. Dornton,

madam?

Widow. [Rising.] Old Mr. Dornton, man! I never saw the figure in my life; no. The gay and gallant young Mr. Dornton; the pride of the city, and the lawful monarch of my bleeding heart.

Sil. Ha, ha, ha! young Mr. Dornton.

Widow. So you may take your will and light your fires with it; you will not make a penny of it in any other way. Mr. Sulky, the executor, is Mr. Dornton's partner, and when I marry Mr. Dornton he will never inflict the absurd penalty.

Sil. Ha, ha, ha! no, madam! when you marry Mr. Dornton, that he certainly never will! but if any accident should happen to prevent the match, you will then let me hear from you?

Widow. Lord, good man! don't mention the horrid idea! do leave me to my delightful meditations! I would indulge in soft sensibility and dreams of bliss; and not be disturbed by dead men's wills, or the sordid extortions of an avaricious old rogue!

Sil. Very well, madam! the secret for the present remains between ourselves! you'll be silent for your own sake! only remember, ha, ha, ha! if you should want me, I live at number forty. My name is on the door. Ha, ha, ha! Mr. Dornton! good morning,

madam! [Going L.] Mr. Dornton! ha! ha! ha! you'll send if you should want me? [Exit laughing, L.

Widow. Jenny !

Enter JENNY, R.

[Culling.

Jenny. Ma'am !

Widow. As I was saying, Jenny, pray how did it happen that Mr. Dornton went away without seeing me? Jenny. Indeed, ma'am, I don't know.

Widow. Cruel youth.

Jenny. I'm sure, ma'am, I wonder how you can like him better than Mr. Goldfinch?

Widow. Mr. Goldfinch is very well, Jenny; but Mr. Dornton; oh! incomparable.

Jenny. I am sure, ma'am, if I was a rich lady, and a handsome lady, and a fine lady, like you, I should say Mr. Goldfinch for my money.

Widow. Should you, Jenny? Well, I don't know.

[Languishing. Gold. [Without, L.] Tellee I must see her. Widow. As I live, here he comes;-he is such a boisterous person; how do I look, Jenny?

Jenny. After examining.] You had better go up your toilette for a minute.

to

Widow. That smooth-tongued old extortioner has put me into such a fluster.-Don't let him go, Jenny. Jenny. Never fear, ma'am.

Widow. I'll not stay too long.

[Exit, R.

Enter GOLDFINCH, L. his clothes dirtied by a fall.

Gold. (L.) Here I am-all alive.

Jenny. (c.) Dear; what's the matter?

Gold. (L. c.) Safe and sound; fine kick up.
Jenny. Have you been thrown?

Gold. Pitched five-and-twenty feet into a ditch

souse.

Jenny. Dear me.

Gold. Pretty commence ;-no matter-limbs wholeheart sound-that's your sort!

Jenny. Where did it happen?

Gold. Bye road-back of Islington-had them tight in hand too-came to short turn and a narrow lane-up flew a damned dancing-master's umbrella-bounce-off they went-road repairing-wheelbarrow in the waycrash-out flew I-whiz-fire flashed-lay stunned

got up-looked foolish-shafts broke-Snarler and Blackguard both down-Black-and-all-black paying away, pannels smashed, traces cut, Snarler lamed. Jenny. Terrible!

Gold. Damned mad!-cursed a few, cut up Blackand-all-black, horse whipped Tom, took coach, and drove here like a devil in a whirlwind.

Jenny. "Tis very well your neck's not broke.

Gold. Little stiff-no matter-damn all dancing-masters and their umbrellas!

Jenny. You had better have been here, Mr. Goldfinch. You stand so long, shilly shally, that you'll be cut out at last. If you had but a license now in your pocket, I'd undertake to have you married in half an hour.

Gold. Do you think so?

Jenny. Think! I'm sure on't.

Gold. Damme, I'll post away and get one-must not lose her; the game's up if I do !-must have her!-be true to me, and I'll secure you the hundred. I'll be back from the Commons in a smack. [Exit JENNY, L.

Enter the WIDOW WARREN, R.

Gold. Ah, Widow! here am I !

[Runs to her, kisses her eagerly, and dirties her clothes.

Widow. (R.) I protest, Mr. Goldfinch !-was ever the like! [Looking at herself. Gold. (c.) Never mind, brush off-I'm the lad! been to Hatchet's-bespoke the wedding-coach.

Widow. But-Sir

Gold. Pannels stripe painted-hammer-cloth fringed -green and white-curtains festooned-patent wheels -silver furniture-all flash-light as a bandbox-trun dle and spin after my greys like a tandem down hillpass-shew 'em the road-whurr-whizz-gig-that's your sort!

Widow. It will be superb!

Gold. Superb! [With contempt.] Tellee it will be the thing!-the go-the stare-the gape-the gaze!-the rich widow and the tight one!-there they go-that's your sort-I'm the boy that shall drive you.

Widow. Pardon me, Mr. Goldfinch; if a certain event were by the wise disposition of Providence to take place, I should think proper to drive.