THE MARQUIS OF GRANBY,

THE PATRON OF LETTERS,

THE HOPE AND ORNAMENT

OF HIS COUNTRY,

THIS COMEDY

IS DEDICATED

BY HIS LORDSHIP'S MOST

DEVOTED AND OBLIGED

HUMBLE SERVANT,

SAMUEL FOOTE.

Spoken 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 curic,
The head is near as empty as the purie;
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 firft to look at home?
You, gentle Sirs, have giv'n me credit long,
And took my word for many an idle fong;
But if exhausted, I give notes to-day-
For wit and humour, which I cannot pay,
I must turn Bankrupt too, and hop away.
Unless, indeed, I modiíhly apply,

For leave to fell my works by lottery.

Tho' few will favour, where's no caih to fee'em,
Poor hopes, that way, to part with my Mufeum:
My old friend, Smirk, indeed, may lend his aid,
And fell by auction all my ftock in trade;
His placid features, and imploring eye,
May tempt, perhaps, the tardy town to buy;
His winning manner, and his foft address,
To other fales of mine have giv'n fuccefs;
But after all, my ever honour'd friends,
On you alone my fate this night depends;
I've fought fome battles, gain'd fume 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 fo,
To grant me neither wit, nor tafte, nor fenfe,
Vain were my plea, and ufclefs my defence.
But ftill, I will not fleal, 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 thewn,

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

3

}

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 casket 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 occasion.

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?