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was on fire; water-engines playing, flames ascending, all hurry, confusion and distress! when, on a sudden, the voice of despair, silver sweet, came thrilling down to my very heart. Poor, dear, little soul, what can she do !' cried the neighbours. Again she screamed; the fire gathering force, and gaining upon her every instant. Here, madam, said I leap into my arms, I'll be sure to receive you. And would you think it? down she came my dear Rovewell, such a girl! I caught her in my arms, you rogue, safe, without harm. The dear naked Venus, just risen from her bed, my boy- -her slender waist, Rovewell, the downy smoothness of her whole person, and her limbs harmonious swelling by nature's softest hand!

Rove. Raptures and paradise! What seraglio in Covent Garden did you carry her to?

I'll drink with you, game with you, go into any scheme or frolic with you; but 'ware matrimony! Nay, if you come to the tavern this evening, I'll drink your mistress's health in a bumper ; but as to your conjugal scheme, I'll have nothing to do with that business possitively.

Bel. Well, well, I'll take you at your word, and meet you at ten exactly, at the same place we were at last night; then and there I'll let you know what further measures I have concerted.

you

Rove. 'Till then, farewell; a-propos-do know that I have seen none of my relations yet? Bel. Time enough to-morrow.

Rove. Ay, ay, tomorrow will do-Well, your

servant.

Bel. Rovewell, yours, [Erit.] See the gentleman down stairs-and d'ye hear? come to me in my study, that I may give you a letter to Harriet. And harkye, sir-be sure you see Harriet herself; and let me have no messages from that officious go-between, her mistress Slipslop of a maid, with her unintelligible jargon of hard

Bel. There again, now! Do, pr'ythee, correct your way of thinking: take a quantum sufficit of virtuous love, and purify your ideas. Her lovely bashfulness, her delicate fears, her beauty, heightened and endeared by distress, dispersed my wildest thoughts, and melted me into ten-words, of which she neither knows the meaning derness and respect.

Rove. But, Belmour, surely she has not the impudence to be modest after you have had possession of her person?

Bel. My views are honourable, I assure you, sir; but her father is so absurdly positive. The inan is distracted about the balance of power, and will give his daughter to none but to a politiciau. When there was an execution in his house, he thought of nothing but the camp at Pyrna; and now he's bankrupt, his head runs upon the ways and means, and schemes for paying off the national debt: the affairs of Europe engross all his attention, while the distresses of bis lovely daughter pass unnoticed.

Rove. Ridiculous enough! But why do you mind him! Why don't you go to bed to the wench at once! -Take her into keeping,

man.

Bel. How can you talk so affrontingly of her? Have not I told you, though her father is ruined, still she has great expectances from a rich relation.

Rove. Then, what do you stand watering at the mouth for? If she is to have money enough to pay for her china, her gaming debts, her dogs, and her monkeys, marry her then, if you needs must be ensnared: be in a fool's paradise for a honey moon; then, come to yourself, wonder at what you have done, and mix with honest fellows again: carry her off, I say, and never stand whining for the father's consent.

Bel. Carry her off! I like the scheme-Will you assist me?

Rove. No, no, there I beg to be excused.Don't you remember what the satyrist saysNever marry while there's a halter to be had for money, or a bridge to afford a convenient leap.'

Bel. Pr'ythee leave fooling.

nor pronunciation. [Exit BRISK.] I'll write to her this moment, acquaint her with the soft tumult of my desires, and, if possible, make her my own this very night. [Erit repeating,

'Love first taught letters for some wretch's aid, Some banished lover, or some captive maid.

SCENE II.-The Upholsterer's House.

Enter HARRIET and TERMAGANT. Ter. Well, but madam, he has made love to you six weeks successively; he has been as constant in his moors, poor gentlemen as if you had the subversion of 'state to settle upon him-and if he slips through your fingers now, madam, you have nobody to depute it but yourself.

Har. Lard, Termagant, how you run on! I tell you again and again, my pride was touched, because he seemed to presume on his opulence and my father's distresses.

Ter. La, Miss Harriet, how can you be so paradropsical in your 'pinions?

Har. Well, but you know, though my father's affairs are ruined, I am not in so desperate a way; consider my uncle's fortune is no trifle, and I think that prospect entitles me to give my self a few airs, before I resign my person.

Ter. I grant ye, madam, you have very good pretensions; but then, it's waiting for dead men's shoes: I'll venture to be perjured Mr. Bellmour never disclaimed an idear of your father's distress.

Har. Supposing that?

Ter. Suppose madam-I know it disputably to be so.

Har. Indisputably, I guess you mean; but I'm tired of wrangling with you about words. Ter. By my troth, you are in the right on't

Rove, I am in serious earnest, I assure you. there's ne'er a she in all Old England, (as your

father calls it) is inistress of such phisiology, as Har. You'll give me leave to see you to the I am. Incertain I am, as how you does not know door, sir. [Erit HARRIET. nobody that puts their words together with such Ter. O' my conscience, this master of wine a curacy as myself. I once lived with a mistus, within here might have picked up his crumbs as madam-Mistus! She was a lady-a great brew-well as Mr. Feeble, if he had any idear of his

er's wife and she wore as fine clothes as any person of quality, let her get up as early as she will-and she used to call me-Termagant, says she-what is the figrification of such a word and I always told her-I told her the importation of all my words; though I could not help laughing, Miss Harriet, to see so fine a lady such a downright ignoramus.

Har. Well-but pray now, Termagant, would you have me, directly upon being asked the question, throw myself into the arms of a man?"

Ter. O' my conscience you did throw yourself into his arms, with scarce a shift on: that's what you did.

Har. Yes; but that was a leap in the dark, when there was no time to think of it.

business. I'm sure, if I had not hopes from Mr.
Feeble, I should not tarry in this house-By my
troth, if all who have nothing to say to the 'fairs
of the nation would mind their own business,
would mind their business too, I fancy poor Old
England (as they call it) would fare the better
among them-This old crazy pate within here—
playing the fool-when the man is past his grand
clytemnester.
[Edit TERMAGANT,

SCENE III.-Discovers QUIDNUNC at a table, with newspapers, pamphlets, &c. all around him.

Ter. Well, it does not signify arguing, I wish we were both warm in bed; you with Mr. BelQuid. Six and three is nine-seven and four mour, and I with his coxcomb of a man; instead is eleven, and carry one-let me see, 126 million of being manured here with an old crazy fool-199 thousand $28-and all this with about— axing your pardon, madam, for calling your father so-but he is fool, and the worst of fools, with his policies-when his house is full of statues of bangcressy.

-yet he's

where, where's the amount of the specie? Here, here-with about 15 million in specie, all this great circulation! good, good-Why then, how are we ruined? how are we ruined? What says the land-tax at 4 shilling in the pound? two million: now where's my new assessment?—here

Har. 'Tis too true, Termagantmy father still, and I can't help loving him. Ter. Fiddle Faddle-love him! He's an anec-here-the 5th part of twenty; 5 in 2, I can't dote against love.

Har Hush! here he comes!

Ter. No, 'tis your uncle, Feeble; poor gentleman, I pities him, eaten up with infirmaries, to be taken such pains with a madman.

Enter FEEBLE.

but 5 in 20 [Pauses.] right, 4 times-why then, upon my new assessment there's 4 million-how are we ruined?-What says malt, cyder, and mum?-eleven and carry 1, nought and go 2good, good; malt, hops, cyder, and mum. Then there's the wine licence; and the gin-act is no bad article if the people will shoot fire down their throats, why, in a Christian country, they should pay as much as possible for suicide Salt, good-sugar, very good-Window-lights-good Feeb. He wants no consolation, child-Lack- again!-Stamp-duty, that's not so well-it will a-day-I'm so infirm I can hardly move. I have a bad effect upon the newspapers, and we found him tracing in the map prince Charles shan't have enough of politics-But there's the Lorraine's passage over the Rhine, and compar-here it is-Now for the amount of the whole lottery-where's my new scheme for a lottery? ing it with Julius Cæsar's. -how are we ruined? 7 and carry noughtnought and carry 1

Har. Well, uncle, have you been able to console him?

Ter. An old blockhead!-I've no patience with him, with his fellows coming after him every hour in the day with news. Well now, I wishes there was no such thing as a newspaper in the world, with such a pack of lies, and such a deal of jab-jab every day.

Feeb. Ay, there were three or four shabby fellows with him when I went into his room-I can't get him to think of appearing before the commissioners to-morrow, to disclose his effects; but I'll send my neighbour, Counsellor Codicil, to him-Don't be dejected, Harriet; my poor sister, your mother, was a good woman: I love you for her sake, child, and all I am worth shall be yours-but I must be going-I find myself but very ill; good night, Harriet, good night!

[Exit FEEBLE.

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Ter. Yes, you have carried your pigs to a fine market.

Quid. Get out of the room, hussy-you trollop, get out of the room!- [Turning her out.

Enter RAZOR, with suds on his head, &c.

Friend Razor, I'm glad to see thee-Well, hast got any news?

Enter TERMAGANT.

Ter. Gemini! gemini! How can a man have so little difference for his customersQuid. I tell you, Mrs. Malapert—

Ter. And I tell you, the gentleman keeps such a bawling yonder-for shame, Mr. Razor! you'll be a bankrupper like my master, with such a house full of children as you have, pretty little

Raz. A budget! I left a gentleman half-shav-things-that's what you will. ed in my shop over the way; it came into my head of a sudden, so I could not be at ease till I told you.

Quid. That's kind, that's kind, friend Razornever mind the gentleman; he can wait.

Raz. Yes, so he can; he can wait.
Quid. Come, now let's hear, what is't?
Raz. I shaved a great man's butler to day.—
Quid. Did ye?
Raz. I did.

Quid. Aye!

Raz. Very true.

Raz. I'm a-coming, I'm a-coming, Mrs. Termagant-I say, Mr. Quidnunc, I can't sleep in bed for thinking what will come of the protestants, if the papists should get the better in the present war

my

Quid. I'll tell you the geographer of our coffee-house was saying the other day, that there is an huge tract of land about the pole, where the protestants may retire; and that the papists will never be able to beat them thence, if the northern powers hold together, and the Grand Turk

[Both shake their heads. make a diversion in their favour.

Quid. What did he say?
Raz. Nothing.

Quid. Hum-How did he look?

Raz. Full of thought.

Raz. [Laughs.] That makes me easy--I'm glad the protestants will know where to go, if the papists should get the better. [Going, returns. Oh! Mr. Quidnunc, hark ye !India bonds

Quid. Aye! full of thought-what can that are risen. mean?

Raz. It must mean something. [Staring at each other, Quid. Mayhap somebody may be going out of place?

Raz. Like enough-there's something at the bottom when a great man's butler looks grave; things can't hold out in this manner, Master Quidnunc!-Kingdoms rise and fall!-Luxury will be the ruin of us; it will indeed!

[Stares at him. Quid, Pray, now, friend Razor, do you find business as current now as before the war?

Raz. No, no; I have not made a wig the Lord knows when; I can't mind it for thinking of my poor country.

Quid. That is generous, friend Razor.

Raz. Yes, I can't gi' my mind to any thing for thinking of my country; and when I was in Bedlam, it was the same: I could think of nothing else in Bedlam, but poor old England, and so they said as how I was incurable for it.

Quid. S'bodikins! they might as well say the -same of me.

Raz. So they might-Well, your servant, Mr. Quidnunc. I'll now go and shave the rest of the gentleman's face-Poor Old England!

[Sighs and shakes his head. Going. Quid. But harke ye, friend Razor, ask the gentleman if he has got any news?

Raz. I will, I will.

Quid. And, d'ye hear, come and tell me, if he bas.

Raz. I will, I will-poor Old England![Going, returns ]-O, Mr. Quidnunc, I want to ask you -pray now

Quid. Are they! how much?

Raz. A Jew pedlar said in my shop, as how they are risen three sixteenths.

Quid. Why, then, that makes some amends for the price of corn.

Raz. So it does, so it does-Good-bye, Mr. Quidnunc-I'm so glad the poor protestants know where to go; I shall then have a night's rest maphap. [Exit RAZOR, laughing. Quid. I shall never be rightly easy till those careening wharfs at Gibraltar are repaired— Ter. Fiddle for your dwarfs! impair your ruined fortune, do that.

Quid. If only one ship can heave down at a time, there will be no end of it--and then, why should watering be so tedious there?

Ter. Look where your daughter comes, and yet you'll be ruinating about Give-a-halterwhile that poor thing is breaking her heart.

Enter HARRIet.

Quid. It is one comfort, however, they can always have fresh provisions in the Mediterra

nean.

Har. Dear papa, what's the Mediterranean to people in our situation?

Quid. The Mediterranean, child? Why, if we should lose the Mediterranean, we're all undone.

Har. Dear sir, that's our misfortune-we are undone already.

Quid. No, no-here, here, child-I have raised the supplies within the year.

Ter. I tell you, you're a lunatic man.
Quid. Yes, yes, I'm a lunatic to be sure-
I tell you, Harriet, I have saved a great deal out
of my affairs for you

Har. For Heaven's sake, sir, don't do that; you must give up every thing; my uncle Feeble's lawyer will be here to talk with you about it—

Quid. Poh, poh, I tell you I know what I am about--you shall have my books and pamphlets, and all the manifestoes of the powers of war. Har. And so make me a politician, sir? Quid. It would be the pride of my heart to find I had got a politician in petticoats-a female Machiavel! 'Sbodikins, you might then know as much as most people that talk in coffeehouses; and who knows but, in time, you might be a maid of honour, or sweeper of the Mall, orHar. Dear sir, don't I see what you have got by politics.

Quid. Psha! my country's of more consequence to me: and let me tell you, you can't think too much of your country in these worst of times; for Mr. Monitor has told us, that affairs in the north, and the protestant interest, begin to grow ticklish.

Har. I thank you, sir, for the informationCod. And I hope soon to draw your marriage settlement for my friend Mr. Belmour.

Har. O lud, sir! not a word of that before my father-I wish you'd try, sir, to get him to think of his affairs.

Cod. Why, yes, I have instructions for that purpose. Mr. Quidnunc, I am instructed to expound the law to you.

Quid. What, the law of nations?

Cod. I am instructed, sir, that you're a bankrupt-Quasi bancus ruptus-banque route faire -And my instructions say further, that you are summoned to appear before the commissioners to-morrow.

Quid. That may be, sir; but I can't go tomorrow; and so I shall send them word-I am to be to-morrow at Slaughter's coffee-house with a private committee, about business of great consequence to the affairs of Europe.

Cod. Then, sir, if you don't go, I must instruct deemed to be done malo animo-it is held so in the books: And what says the statute? By the

Ter. And your daughter's affairs are very tick-you that you will be guilty of a felony; it will be lish, too, I'm sure.

Har. Pr'ythee, Termagant

Ter. I must speak to him-I know you are in 5th Geo. II. Cap. 30. not surrendering, or em

a ticklish situation, ma'am. Quid. I tell you, Trull—

bezzling, is felony, without benefit of clergy. Quid. Ay! you tell me news

Cod. Give me leave, sir-I am instructed to expound the law to you: Felony is thus described in the books: Felonia, saith Hotoman, de verbis feudalibus, significat capitale facinus, a capital

Ter. But I ain convicted it is so; and the posture of my affairs is very ticklish, too; and so I imprecate that Mr. Belmour would come, andQuid. Mr. Belmour come! I tell you, Mrs. Saucebox, that my daughter shall never be mar-offence. ried to a man that has not better notions of the balance of power.

Ter. But what purvision will you make for her now, with your balances?

Quid. There again now? Why, do you think I don't know what I am about? I'll look in the papers for a match for you, child; there's often good matches advertised in the papers-Evil betide it, evil betide it! I once thought to have struck a great stroke, that would have astonished all Europe; I thought to have married my daughter to Theodore, King of Corsica

Quid. You tell me news; you do indeed! Cod. It was so apprehended by the Goths and the Longobards. And what saith Sir Edward Coke? Fieri debeat felleo animo.

Quid. You've told me news-I did not know it was felony; but if the Flanders mail should come in while I am there, I shall know nothing at all of it

Cod. But why should you be uneasy? cui bono, Mr. Quidnunc, cui bono?

Quid. Not uneasy! If the papists should beat the protestants!

Har. What, and have me perish in a jail, sir? Cod. But I tell you, they can get no advan Quid. 'Sbodikins, my daughter would have had tage of us. The laws against the further growth her coronation day! I should have been allied to of popery will secure us; there are provisos in a crowned head, and been first lord of the trea-favour of protestants purchasers under papists— sury of Corsica?-But come, now, I'll go and 10th Geo. I. cap. 4. and 6th Geo. II. cap. 5. talk over the London Evening, till the Gazette Quid. Ay! comes in; I shan't sleep to-night, unless I see the Gazette.

Enter CODICIL.

Cod. Mr. Quidnunc, your servant-The door was open, and I entered upon the premises-I'm just come from the hall.

Quid. 'Sbodikins, this man is now come to keep me at home.

Cod. Upon my word, Miss Harriet's a very pretty young lady; as pretty a young lady as one would desire to have and to hold. Ma'am, your most obedient; I have drawn my friend Feeble's will, in which you have all his goods and chattles, lands, and hereditaments.

Cod. And besides, popish recusants can't carry arms; so can have no right of conquest, vi et armis.

Quid. That's true, that's true; I'm easier in my mind

Cod. To be sure, what are you uneasy about? The papists can have no claim to SilesiaQuid. Can't they?

Cod. No, they can set up no claim-If the queen, on her marriage, had put all her lands into Hotchpot, then indeed-and it seemeth,saith Littleton, that this word Hotchpot is in English a pudding

Quid. You reason very clearly, Mr. Codicil, upon the rights of the powers of war; and so

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Quid. 'Sbodikins, you have satisfied meCod. Why, therefore, then, if he will levy fines, and suffer a common recovery, he can bequeath it as he likes in feodum simplex, provided he takes care to put in his ses heres.

Quid. I'm heartily glad of it-So that, with regard to my effects

Cod. Why, then, suppose, she was to bring it to a trial at bar

Quid. I say, with regard to the full disclosure of my effects

Cod. What would she get by that? it would go off upon a special pleading: and as to equityQuid. Pray, must I now surrender my books and my pamphlets?

Quid. I care for no books; I want the papers[Stamping.

Cod. Throughout all the books-Bo! the man is non compos; and his friends, instead of a commission of bankruptcy, should take out a commission of lunacy. [Exit CODICIL.

Enter TERMAGANT.

Ter. What do you keep such a bawling for? the newsman says as how the Emperor of Mocco is dead.

Quid. The Emperor of Morocco ?
Ter. Yes, him.

Quid. My poor, dear, Emperor of Morocco ! [Bursts into tears. madam-Miss Harriet, go your ways into the Ter. Ah, you old Don Quicksett !—Madam, next room; there's Mr. Belmour's man there; Mr. Belmour has sent you a billydore.—

Har. Oh, Termagant, my heart is in an uproar- -I don't know what to say-Where is he? let me run to him this instant. [Exit HAR.

Cod. What would equity do for her? Equity Quid. The Emperor of Morocco had a regard can't relieve her; he might keep her at least for the balance of Europe. [Sighs.] Well, twenty years before a master to settle the ac-well; come, come; give me the paper.

Count

Quid. You have made me easy about the protestants in this war, you have indeed. So that, with regard to my appearing before the commissioners

Cod. And as to the ban of the empire, he may demur to that: for all tenures by knights-service are abolished; and the statute 12th Char. II. has declared all lands to be held under a common socage.

Quid. Pray, now, Mr. Codicil, must not my creditors appear to prove their debts?

Cod. Why, therefore, then, if they're held in common socage, I submit it to the court, whether the empire can have any claim to knight's service. They can't call to him for a single man for the wars-anum hominem ad guerramFor what is common socage?-socagium idem est quod servitum soca-The service of the plough.

Ter. The newsman would not trust, because you're a bankrupper, and so I paid twopencehalfpenny for it."

Quid. Let's see, let's see.
Ter. Give me my money, then.

[Running from him. Quid. Give it me this instant, you jade!

[After her. Ter. Give me my money, I say! [From him. Quid. I'll teach you, I will, you baggage!

[After her.

Ter. I won't part with it till I have the money.

[From him.

Quid. I'll give you no money, hussy!

[After her.

Ter. Your daughter shall marry Mr. Belmour. [From him.

Quid. I'll never acceed to the treaty.

[After her. Ter. Go, you old fool! From him. Quid. I'm ready to attend them-But, pray, Quid. You vile minx, worse than the whore of now, when my certificate is signed-it is of great Babylon! consequence to me to know this-I say, sir, [After her. Ter. There, you old cracked-brained-politic when my certificate is signed, mayn't I then--there's your paper for you! Hey? [Starting up ] Hey! What do I hear!

Cod. I apprehend-I humbly conceive, when your certificate is signed

Quid. Hold your tongue, man-Did not I hear the Gazette?

Newsman. [Without.] Great news in the London Gazette!

Quid. Yes, yes, it is-it is the GazetteTermagant, run you jade-[Turns her out.]— Harriet, fly! it is the Gazette. [Turns her out. Cod. The law, in that case, Mr. Quidnunc, prima facie

Quid. I can't hear you-I have not timeTermagant, run, make haste-[Stamps violently. Cod. I say, sir, it is held in the books

[Throws it down, and exit.

Quid. [Sitting down.] O Heavens! I'm quite out of breath-A jade, to keep my news from me- -What does it say, what does it say?Reads very fast while opening the paper.]— Whereas a commission of bankrupt is awarded and issued forth against Abraham Quidnunc, of the parish of St. Martin's, in the Fields, uphol sterer, dealer, and chapman, the said bankrupt is hereby required to surrender himself. Poh! what signifies this stuff? I don't mind myself, when the balance of power is concerned. However, I shall be read of in the same paper, in the London Gazette, by the powers abread, together with the Pope, and the French king, and the Mogul, and all of them-Good, good, very good

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