so perplexed me. would have you, or— Cler. Forgive my interposing. Dear sir, what's the matter? Madam, let me entreat you not to put your father into a passion.

-Hussy, you shall marry as I

Love. Clerimont, you are a prudent young fellow. Here's a baggage of a daughter who refuses the most advantageous match that ever was offered both to her and to me: a man of a vast estate offers to take her without a portion!

Cler. Without a portion! Consider, dear madam! Can you refuse a gentleman who offers to take you without a portion?

Love. Ay, consider what that saves your father.

Har. Yes, but I consider what I am to suffer. Cier. That's true indeed; you will think on that, sir. Though money be the first thing to be considered in all the affairs of life, yet some little regard should be had in this case to inclination.

Love. Without a portion.

Cler. You are in the right, sir; that decides the thing at once: And yet I know there are people who, on this occasion, object against a disparity of age and temper, which too often make the married state utterly miserable.

Love. Without a portion.

Cler. Ah! there's no answering that-Who can oppose such a reason as that? And yet there are several parents who study the inclinations of their children more than any other thing, that would by no means sacrifice them to interest, and who esteem, as the very first article of marriage, that happy union of affections which is the foundation of every blessing attending on a married state-and who

Love. W thot a portion.

Cler. Very true; that stops your mouth at -Without a portion ! Where is the person who can find an argument against that?

once

Love. Ha! is not that the barking of a dog? Some villains are in search of my money.-Don't stir from hence :-I'll return in an instant.

[Exit LOVE.

Cler. Thou kindest lovely creature!
Enter LOVEGOLD.

Love. Thank Heaven, it was nothing but my fear.

Cler. Yes, a daughter must obey her father: she is not to consider the shape, or the air, or the age of a husband; but when a man offers to take her without a portion, she is to have him, let him be what he will.

Love. Admirably well said, indeed!

Cler. Madam, I ask your pardon, if my love for yourself and family carries me a little too far.Be under no concern: I dare swear I shall bring her to it. [To LOVEGOLD. Love. Do, do. I'll go in and see what these people want with me. Give her a little more now while she's warm: you will be time enough to draw the warrant.

Cler. When a lover offers, madam, to take a daughter without a portion, one should inquire no further; every thing is contained in that one article; and without a portion supplies the want of beauty, youth, family, wisdom, honour, and honesty.

Love. Gloriously said: spoke like an oracle!

SCENE I-Continues.

Enter FREDERICK and RAMILIE. Fred. What is the reason, sirrah, you have been out of the way, when I gave you orders to stay here?

Ram. Yes, sir, and here did I stay, according to your orders, till your good father turn'd me out; and it is, sir, at the extreme hazard of a cudgel that I return back again.

Ram. Ah, sir, it is a terrible thing to borrow money! A man must have dealt with the devil, to deal with a scrivener.

Fred. Then it won't do, I suppose.

Ram. Pardon me, sir. Mr Decoy the broker is a most industrious person: he says he has done every thing in his power to serve you, for he has taken a particular fancy to your honour.

Fred. So then I shall have the five hundred, shall I ?

the affair can be finished.

Fred. Did he bring you to the speech of the person that is to lend the money?

Ram. Ah, sir! things are not managed in that manner: he takes more care to conceal himself than you do: There are greater mysteries in these matters than you imagine. Why, he would not so much as tell me the lender's name; and he is to bring him to-day to talk with you in some third person's house, to learn from your own mouth the particulars of your estate and family. I dare swear the very name of your father will make all things easy.

Fred. Chiefly the death of my mother, whose jointure no one can hinder me of.

Ram. Here, sir, I have brought the articles: Mr Decoy told me he took 'em from the mouth of the person himself. Your honour will find them extremely reasonable -the broker was forced to stickle hard to get such good ones. In the first place, the lender is to see all his securities, and the borrower must be of age, and heir-apparent to a large estate, without flaw in the title, and entirely free from all encumbrance; and, that the lender may run as little risk as possible, the borrower must ensure his life for the sum lent: if he be an officer in the army, he is to make over his whole pay for the payment of both principal and interest, which, that the lender may not burden his conscience with any scruples, is to be no more than thirty per cent.

Fred. Oh the conscientious rascal!

Ram. But as the said lender has not by him at present the sui demanded, and that to oblige the borrower he is himself forced to borrow of another, at the rate of four per cent., he thinks it but reasonable that the first borrower, over and above the thirty per cent. aforesaid, shall also pay this four per cent., since it is for his service only that this sum is borrowed.

Fred. Oh, the devil! what a Jew is here! Ram. You know, sir, what you have to do-He cann't oblige you to these terms.

Fred. Nor can I oblige him to lend me the money without them; and you know that I must have it, let the conditions be what they will.

Rum. Ay, sir: Why, that was what I told him. Fred. Did you so, rascal? No wonder he insists on such conditions, if you laid open my ne cessities to him.

Ram. Alas, sir, I only told it to the broker, who is your friend, and has your interest very much at heart.

Fred. Well, is this all, or are there any more reasonable articles?

Ram. Of the five hundred pounds required, the lender can pay down in ca h no more than four hundred, and for the rest the borrower must take in goods, of which here follows the catalogue. Fred. What, in the devil's naine, is the meaning of all this?

Ram. Imprimis, one large yellow camblet bed, lined with satin, very little eaten by the moths, and wanting only one curtain; six stuffed chairs of the same, a little torn, and the frames worm

eaten, otherwise not in the least the worse for wearing; one large pier-glass, with only one crack in the middle; one suit of tapestry hangings, in which are curiously wrought the loves of Mars and Venus, Venus and Adonis, Cupid and Psyche, with many other amorous stories, which make the hangings very proper for a bed-chamber. Fred. What the devil is here?

Ram. Item, one suit of drugget, with silver buttons, the buttons only the worse for wearing; item, two muskets, one of which only wants the lock; one large silver watch, with Tompion's name to it; one snuff-box, with a picture in it, bought at Mr Deard's a proper present for a mistress; five pictures without frames, if not originals, all copies by good hands; and one fine frame without a picture.

Fred. Oons! what use have I for all this? Ram. Several valuable books, amongst which are all the journals printed for these five years. last past, handsomely bound and lettered-the whole works in divinity of

Fred. Read no more! Confound the curs'd extortioner! I shall pay one hundred per cent. Ram. Ah, sir! I wish your honour would consider of it in time.

Fred. I must have money. To what straits are we reduced by the curs'd avarice of fathers! Well may we wish them dead, when their death is the only introduction to our living.

Ram. Such a father as yours, sir, is enough to make one do something more than wish him dead. For my part, I have never had any inclinations towards hanging; and I thank Heaven I have lived to see whole sets of my companions swing out of the world, while I have had address enough to quit all manner of gallantries the mo ment I smelt the halter. I have always had an utter aversion to the smell of hemp; but this rogue of a father of yours, sir――Sir, I ask your pardon--has so provoked me, that I have often wished to rob him; and rob him I shall in the end, that's certain.

Fred. Give me that paper, that I may consider a little these moderate articles.

Enter LOVEGOLD and DECOY.

Decoy. In short, sir, he is a very extravagant young fellow, and so pressed by his necessities, that you may bring him to what terins you please.

Love. But do you think, Mr Decoy, there is no danger? Do you know the name, the family, and the estate of the borrower ?

Decoy. No, I cannot give you any perfect information yet, for it was by the greatest accident in the world that he was recommended to me; but you will learn all these particulars from his own lips; and his man assured me you would make no difficulty the moment you knew the name of his father. All that I can tell you is, that his servant says the old gentleman is extremely rich: he called him a covetous old rascal.

Loor. Ay, that is the name which these spendthrifts, and the rogues their servants, give to all

honest, prudent men, who know the world, and the value of their money.

Decoy. This young gentleman is an only son, and is so little afraid of any future competitors, that he offers to be bound, if you insist on it, that his father shall die within these eight months.

Love. Ay, there's something in that: I believe then I shall let him have the money.Charity, Mr Decoy, charity obliges us to serve our neighbours, I say, when we are no losers by so doing.

Decoy. Very true indeed.

Ram Hey-day! what can be the meaning of this? Our broker talking with the old gentleman! Decoy. So, gentlemen! I see you are in great haste: But who told you, pray, that this was the lender?-I assure you, sir, I neither discovered your name nor your house: but, however, there is no great harm done: they are people of discretion, so you may freely transact the affair now. Love. How!

Decoy. This, sir, is the gentleman that wants to borrow the five hundred pounds I mentioned to you.

Love. How, rascal! is it you that abandon yourself to these intolerable extravagancies?

Fred. I must even stand buff, and outface him. [Aside.]-And is it you, father, that disgrace yourself by these scandalous extortions?

[RAMILIE and DECOY sneak off. Love. Is it you that would ruin yourself by taking up money at such an interest?

Fred. Is it you that would enrich yourself by lending at such interest?

Love. How dare you, after this, appear before my face?

Fred. How dare you, after this, appear before the face of the world?

Love. Get you out of my sight, villain! get out of my sight.

Fred. Sir, I go; but give me leave to sayLove. I'll not hear a word: I'll prevent your attempting any thing of this nature for the futare.. -Get out of my sight, villain!—I am not sorry for this accident: it will make me henceforth keep a stricter eye over his actions.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-An Apartment in LOVEGOLD'S House.

Enter HARRIET and MARIANA.

Mar. Nay, Harriet, you must excuse me, for of all people upon earth you are my greatest favourite: but I have had such an intolerable cold, child, that it is a miracle I have recovered; for, my dear, would you think I have had no less than three doctors?

Har. Nay, then it is a miracle you recovered, indeed.

Mar. Oh, child, doctors will never do me any harm, I never take any thing they prescribe: I don't know how it is, when one's ill one cann't help sending for them; and you know, my dear,

my mamma loves physic better than she does any thing but cards.

Hur. Were I to take as much of cards as you do, I don't know which I should nauseate most. Mar. Oh, child, you are quite a tramontane : I must bring you to like dear spadille. I protest, Harriet, if you would take my advice in some things, you would be the most agreeable creature in the world.

Har. Nay, my dear! I am in a fair way of being obliged to obey your commands.

Mar. That would be the happiest thing in the world for you; and I dare swear you would like them extremely, for they would be exactly opposite to every command of your father's.

Har. By that, now, one would think you were married already.

Mar. Married, my dear !

Har. Oh, I can tell you of such a conquest! you will have such a lover within these four-andtwenty hours!

Mar. I am glad you have given me timely notice of it, that I may turn off somebody to make room for him; but I believe I have listed him already.Oh, Harriet! I have been so plagued, so pestered, so fatigued, since I saw you, with that dear creature your brother-in short, child, he has made arrant downright love to me if my heart had not been harder than adamant itself, I had been your sister by this time.

Har. And if your heart be not harder than adamant, you will be in a fair way of being my mother shortly, for my good father has this very day declared such a passion for you—

Mar. Your father!

Har. Ay, my dear! what say you to a comely old gentleman of not much above threescore, that loves you so violently? I dare swear he will be constant to you all his days.

Mur. Ha, ha, ha! I shall die. Ha, ha, ha! you extravagant creature! how could you throw away all this jest at once? it would have furnished a prudent person with an annuity of laughter for life. Oh! I am charmed with my conquest; I am quite in love with him already: I never had a lover yet above half his age.

Har. Lappet and I have laid a delightful plot, if you will but come into it, and counterfeit an affection for him.

Mar. Why, child, I have a real affection for him. Oh, methinks I see you on your knees already-Pray, mamma, please to give me your blessing. Oh, I see my loving bridegroom in his threefold nightcap, his flannel shirt: methinks I see him approach me with all the loving gravi ty of age; I hear him whisper charming sentences of morality in my ear, more instructive than all my grandmother e'er taught me. Oh! I smell him sweeter, oh! sweeter than even hartshorn itself! Ha, ha, ha! See, child, how beautiful a fond imagination can paint a lover. Would not any one think now we had been a happy couple together, Heaven knows how long?

Har. Well, you dear mad creature! but de

you think you can maintain any of this fondness | to his face? for I know some women who speak very fondly of a husband to other people, but never say one civil thing to the man himself.

Mar. Oh, never fear it. One cann't indeed bring one's self to be civil to a young lover; but as for these old fellows, I think one may play as harmlessly with them as with one another. Young fellows are perfect bears, and must be kept at a distance; the old ones are mere lapdogs, and when they have agreeable tricks with them, one is equally fond of both.

Hur. Well, but now I hope you will give me leave to speak a word or two seriously in favour of my poor brother.

Mur. Oh, I shall hate you if you are serious. Oh! see what your wicked words have occasioned. I protest you are a conjuror, and certainly deal with the devil.

Enter FREDerick.

Har. Oh, brother! I am glad you are come to plead your own cause: I have been your solicitor in your absence.

Fred. I am afraid, like other clients, I shall plead much worse for myself than my advocate has done.

Mar. Persons who have a bad cause should have very artful counsel.

Fred. When the judge is determined against us, all art will prove of no effect.

Mar. Why then, truly, sir, in so terrible a situation, I think the sooner you give up the cause the better.

Fred. No, madam, I am resolved to persevere; for when one's whole happiness is already at stake, I see nothing more can be hazarded in the pursuit. It might be perhaps a person's interest to give up a cause wherein part of his fortune was concerned, but when the dispute is about the whole, he can never lose by persevering.

Mur. Do you hear him, Harriet? I fancy this brother of yours would have made a most excellent lawyer. I protest, when he is my son in-law, I'll send him to the Temple: though he begins a little late, yet diligence may bring him to be a

great man.

Fred. I hope, madam, diligence may succeed in love as well as law: Sure Mariana is not a more crabbed study than Coke upon Lyttleton!

Mar. Oh, the wretch! he has quite suffocated me with his comparison: I must have a little air: Dear Harriet! let us walk in the garden.

Fred. I hope, madam, I have your leave to attend you?

Mar. My leave! No, indeed, you have no leave of mine; but if you will follow me, I know no way to hinder you. [Exeunt. Har. Ah, brother, I wish you had no greater enemy in this affair than your mistress. [Exit.

SCENE III.-A Garden.

Enter RAMILIE and LAPPET.

Lap. This was indeed a most unlucky accident: however, I dare lay a wager I shall suc

ceed better with him, and get some of those guineas you would have borrowed.

Ram. I am not, madam, now to learn Mrs Lappet's dexterity; but if you get any thing out of him, I shall think you a match for the devil. Sooner than to extract gold from him, I would engage to extract religion from a hypocrite, honesty from a lawyer, health from a physician, sincerity from a courtier, or modesty from a poet. I think, my dear, you have liv'd long enough in this house to know that gold is a dear commodity here.

Lap. Ah, but there are some certain services which will squeeze it out of the closest hands. There is one trade which, I thank Heaven, I'm no stranger to, wherein all men are dabblers: and he who will scarce afford himself either meat or clothes, will still pay for the commodities I deal in.

Ram. Your humble servant, madam. I find you don't know our good master yet. There is not a woman in the world who loves to hear her pretty self talk never so much, but you may easier shut her mouth than open his hands. As for thanks, praises, and promises, no courtier upon earth is more liberal of them; but for money, the devil a penny. There's nothing so dry as his caresses and there is no husband who hates the word wife half so much as he does the word give. Instead of saying I give you a good-morrow, he always says I lend you a good morning.

Lap. Ah, sir! let me alone to drain a man: I have the secret to open his heart and his purse

Love. All's well hitherto: my dear money is safe. Is it you, Lappet?

Lap. I should rather ask if it be you, sir? Why, you look so young and vigorousLove. Do I, do I!

Lap. Why, you grow younger and younger every day, sir: you never look'd half so young in your life, sir, as you do now. Why, sir, I know fifty young fellows of five-and-twenty that are older than you are.

Love. That may be, that may be, Lappet, considering the lives they lead; and yet I am a good ten years above fifty.

Lap. Well, and what's ten years above fifty? 'tis the very flower of a man's age. Why, sir, you are now in the very prime of your life.

Love. Very true, that's very true, as to understanding; but I am afraid, could I take off twenty years, it would do me no harm with the ladies, Lappet.-How goes on our affair with Mariana? Have you mentioned any thing about what her

mother can give her for now-a-days nobody marries a woman unless she brings something with her besides her petticoat

Lap. Sir! Why, sir, this young lady will be worth to you as good a thousand pounds a-year

as ever was told.

Love. How! a thousand pounds a-year! Lup. Yes, sir. There's, in the first place, the article of a table: she has a very little stomach; she does not eat above an ounce in a fortnight; and then, as to the quality of what she eats, you'll have no need of a Fre ch cook upon her account: as for sweet-meats, she mortally hates them; so there is the article of deserts wiped off all at once -you'll have no need of a confectioner, who would be eternally bringing in bills for preserves, conserves, biscuits, comfits, and jellies, of which half-a-dozen ladies would swallow you ten pounds worth at a meal: this, I think, we may very moderately reckon at two hundred pounds a-year at least. Item, for clothes: she has been bred up in such a plainness in them, that should we allow but for three birth-night suits a-year saved, which are the least a town lady would expect, there go a good two hundred pounds a-year more. For jewels, (of which she hates the very sight,) the yearly interest of what you must lay out in them would amount to one hundred pounds. Lastly, she has an utter detestation for play, at which I have known several moderate ladies lose a good two thousand pounds a-year; now let us take only the fourth part of that, which amounts to five hundred, to which if we add two hundred pounds on the table account, two hundred pounds in clothes, and one hundred pounds in jewels, there is, sir, your thousand pounds ayear in hard money.

Love. Ay, ay, these are pretty things, it must be confess'd very pretty things; but there's nothing real in 'em.

Lap. How, sir! is it not something real to bring you in marriage a vast store of sobriety, the inheritance of a great love for simplicity of dress, and a vast acquired fund of hatred for play?

Love. This is downright raillery, Lappet, to make me up a fortune out of the expences she won't put me to. I assure you, madam, I shall give no acquittance for what I have not received: in short, Lappet, I must touch, touch, touch something real.

Lap. Never fear: you shall touch something real. I have heard them talk of a certain country where she has a very pretty freehold, which shall be put into your hands.

Love. Nay, if it were a copyhold I should be glad to touch it; but there is another thing that disturbs me. You know this girl is young, and young people generally love one another's company: it would ill agree with a person of my temper to keep an assembly for all the young rakes and flaunting girls in town.

Lup. Ah, sir, how little do you know of her! This is another particularity that I had to tell you of: She has a most terrible aversion for all young

people, and loves none but persons of your years I would advise you above all things to take care not to appear too young; she insists on sixty at least: Why, she broke off a match t'other day because her lover was but fifty, and pretended to sign the marriage articles without spectacles. Love. This humour is a little strange, methinks.

Lap. She carries it farther, sir, than can be imagined. She has in her chamber several pictures, but what do you think they are? None of your smoke-faced young fellows; your Adonises, your Cephaluses, your Parises, and your Apollos: No, sir; you see nothing there but your handsome figures of Saturn, King Priam, old Nestor, and good father Anchises upon his son's shoul ders.

Love. Admirable! This is more than I could have hoped. To say the truth, had I been a woman, I should never have loved young fellows.

Lap. I believe you. Pretty sort of stuff indeed to be in love with, young fellows! Pretty masters indeed, with their fine complexions and their fine feathers! Now, I should be glad to taste the savour that is in any of them

[Here LAPPET introduces a song. Love. And do you really think me pretty tolerable?

Lup. Tolerable! You are ravishing! If your picture were drawn by a good hand, sir, it would be invaluable! Turn about a little, if you please. There, what can be more charming! Let me see you walk. There's a person for you! tall, straight, free, and degagee! Why, sir, you have no fault about you.

Love. Not many; hem, hem; not many, I thank Heaven; only a few rheumatic pains now and then, and a small catarrh, that seizes me sometimes.

Lup. Ah, sir, that's nothing: your catarrh sits very well upon you, and you cough with a very good grace.

Love. But tell me, what does Mariana say of my person?

Lup. She has a particular pleasure in talking of it; and I assure you, sir, I have not been backward on all such occasions to blazon forth your merit, and to make her sensible how advantageous a match you will be to her.

Love. You did very well, and I am obliged to you.

Lap. But, sir, I have a small favour to ask of you. I have a lawsuit depending, which I am on the very brink of losing for want of a little money; [He looks gravely] and you could easily procure my success, if you had the least friendship for me. You cann't imagine. sir, the pleasure she takes in talking of you. [He looks plea sed.] Ah! how you will delight her! how your venerable mien will charm her! she will never be able to withstand you. But indeed, sir, this lawsuit will be of a terrible consequence to me. [He looks grave again.] I am ruined if I lose it, which a very small matter would prevent. Ah, sir, had you but seen the raptures with