Spoken by Mr.

by Mr. FOOT E.

FOR wit's keen fatire, and this laughing stage,

What theme fo fruitful as a Bankrupt Age?
For not confin'd to commerce is the curfe,
The head is near as empty as the purse;
Equally funk, our credit and our wit,
Nor is the fage more folvent than the cit;
All thefe but foft, ere thus abroad we roam,
Were it not prudent first to look at home?
You, gentle Sirs, have giv'n me credit long,
And took my word for many an idle fong;
But if exhaufted, I give notes to-day-
For wit and humour, which I cannot pay,
I must turn Bankrupt too, and hop away.
Unlefs, indeed, I modifhly apply,

For leave to fell my works by lottery.

Tho' few will favour, where's no cafh to fee'em,

Poor hopes, that way, to part with my Museum:
My old friend, Smirk, indeed, may lend his aid,
And fell by auction all my stock in trade;
His placid features, and imploring eye,
May tempt, perhaps, the tardy town to buy;
His winning manner, and his foft addrefs,
To other fales of mine have giv'n success;
But after all, my ever honour'd friends,
On you alone my fate this night depends;
I've fought fome battles, gain'd some vict'ries here,
And little thought a culprit to appear
Before this Houfe; but if refolv'd you go,
To find me guilty, or to make me so,
To grant me neither wit, nor tafte, nor fenfe,
Vain were my plea, and useless my defence.
But ftill, I will not fteal, I will not beg,
Tho' I've a paffport in this wooden leg.
But to my cot contentedly retire,
And ftew my cabbage by my only fire;
Mean time, great Sirs, my fentence yet unknown,

E'en as your Juftice be your candour fhewn,

And when you touch my honour, don't forget your own.

3

1

THE

BANKRUPT.

ACT I.

Enter Robin and Kitty, meeting.

Robin. THIS letter and casket, with my master's most respectful compliments, you will, Kitty, with your own fair hands, deliver to Mifs.

Kitty. The cafket is heavy-I fuppofe, Mr. Robin, this is what my Lady calls the Purryfunalia?

Robin. A fmall tribute, Madam, to adorn the bride on the happy occafion.

Kitty. What then, I fuppofe you look upon this marriage as good as concluded.

Robin. Things are gone fuch a length, that not the leaft doubt can be made.

Kitty. And yet between the cup and the lip, -you remember the proverb?

Robin. One of the parties may die to be fure, otherwife I don't know how

Kitty. No?

Robin. No: The young lady has not alter'd het mind?

Kitty. Not to my knowledge.

Robin. What, Sir Robert Riscounter, her father? thefe curmudgeonly cits regard no ties, no obligations when they have an higher interest in view. I fuppofe he has received larger propofals from fome other party.

Kitty. I have heard no fuch thing.

Robin. Well then, I am fure no impediment can arife from our quarter. My master, Sir James Biddulph, is too much a man of honour: befides, I know his whole foul is wrapt up in Mifs Lydia.

Kitty. He has given her pretty convincing proofs of his paffion.

Robin. What, I fuppofe the malicious mother-in-law, who, I know, hates Mifs, and has a damn'd deal of art, in conjunction with Mifs Lucy, that precious pledge of her former hufband's affections, has contrived to throw fome confounded rub in the way.

Kitty. Blefs me, Mr. Robin, I don't know what you mean, I am fure I faid nothing at all. Rolin. No?

Kitty. No. But only that things which are not done, may perhaps never be done; there is nothing certain but death.

Robin. Very moral, Mifs Kitty,-(there is fome mystery, if I could but get at it, but this flut is as cunning-I will have a trial however) nay, for the matter of that, I can have, Mrs. Kitty, no intereft at all in this match; there is fo much confinement, and form, even in the moit fashionable families, that a fingle service is beft fuited to me, efpecially too, that now I am

got

got into most of the clubs: there is one circumftance I fhall moft feelingly regret: That I own will greatly touch me.

Kitty. And pray, what may that be, Mr.

Robin?

Robin. Not living under the fame roof with Mifs Kitty. I made no doubt, Madam, but your fortunes would follow your miftrefs's, and, in that cafe, I thought to foften the rigours of my captivity, in your agreeable converfe.

Kitty. Really, Mr. Robin? Well, I proteft, I did not.

Robin. And when our mutual endeavours had procured for us a finall independence, I flatter'd myself with gently fliding the downhill of life, fubject to no other will but Mifs Kitty's.

Kitty. What a difference between him, and the fervants of this fide the bar ?Really, Mr. Robin, you talk nearly as well as your master.

Robin. And no wonder, Madam, fince love, the fame deity, infpires us both.

Kitty. How quick you are in your rippartees, Mr. Robin! are you good at a riddle?

Robin. If you mean the making them, no; it is too low a fpecies of writing for me; for novels I have now and then fome dealings with Noble, and have by me a genteel comedy of one act, that is thought to have a good deal of merit.

Kitty. And pray when does it make its appearance?

Robin. Why, faith, I don't know, all the managers are fuch fcribblers, that they won't give

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