Mrs Ful. Do you wish to speak to Mr Fulmer, sir?

Bel. Mr Fulmer, madam? I have not the honour of knowing such a person.

Mrs Ful. No, I'll be sworn, have you not thou art much too pretty a fellow, and too much of a gentleman, to be an author thyself, or to have any thing to say to those that are so. 'Tis the captain, I suppose, you are waiting for? Bel. I rather suspect it is the captain's wife. Mrs Ful. The captain has no wife, sir. Bel. No wife! I am heartily sorry for it; for then, she's his mistress; and that I take to be the more desperate case of the two. Pray, madam, was not there a lady just now turned into your house? 'Twas with her I wished to speak.

Mrs Ful. What sort of a lady, pray?

Bel. One of the loveliest sort my eyes ever beheld; young, tall, fresh, fair; in short, a goddess.

Mrs Ful. Nay, but, dear, dear sir, now I'm sure you flatter: for 'twas me you followed into the shop-door this minute.

Bel. You! No, no, take my word for it, it was not you, madam.

Mrs Ful. But what is it you laugh at ? Bel. Upon my soul, I ask your pardon; but it was not you, believe me: be assured it was

not.

Bel. Oh, yes: 'tis the only way I can ever fall in love: any man may tumble into a pit by surprise; none but a fool would walk into one by choice.

Mrs Ful. You are a hasty lover, it seems; have you spirit to be a generous one? They that will please the eye must not spare the purse.

Bel. Try me; put me to the proof! bring me to an interview with the dear girl that has thus captivated me, and see whether I have spirit to be grateful.

Mis Ful. But how, pray, am I to know the girl you have set your heart on?

Bel. By an indescribable grace, that accompanies every look and action that falls from her; there can be but one such woman in the world, and nobody can mistake that one.

Mrs Ful. Well, if i should stumble upon this angel in my walks, where am I to find you? What's your name?

Bel. Upon my soul, I cann't tell you my name. Mrs Ful. Not tell me! Why so?

Bel. Because I don't know what it is myself; as yet I have no name.

Mrs Ful. No name ?

Ful. A fine case, truly, in a free country! a pretty pass things are come to, if a man is to be assaulted in his own house!

Mrs Ful. Who has assaulted you, my dear? Ful. Who? why this captain Drawcansir, this old Dudley, my lodger: but I'll unlodge him; I'll unharbour him, I warrant.

Mrs Ful. Hush! hush! hold your tongue, man; pocket the affront, and be quiet; I've a scheme on foot will pay you a hundred beatings. Why you surprise me, Mr Fulmer; Captain Dudley assault you! Impossible!

Ful. Nay, I cann't call it an absolute assault; but he threatened me.

Bel. Why, then, I'm mistaken in the house, that's all; for 'tis not humanly possible I can be so far out in the lady. [Going. Mrs Ful. Coxcomb! But hold-a thought occurs; as sure as can be, he has seen Miss Dudley. A word with you, young gentleman; come back.

Bel. Well, what's your pleasure?

Mrs Ful. You seem greatly captivated with this young lady; are you apt to fall in love thus at first sight?

no, poor Captain Dudley; he has sorrows and distresses enough of his own to employ his spirits, without setting them against other people. Make it up as fast as you can: watch this gentleman out; follow him wherever he goes; and bring me word who and what he is; be sure you don't lose sight of him; I've other business in hand.

[Exit Mrs FUL.

Bel. Pray, sir, what sorrows and distresses have befallen this old gentleman you speak of?

Ful Poverty, disappointment, and all the distresses attendant thereupon: sorrow enough of all conscience; I soon found how it was with him,

by his way of living, low enough of all reason: but what I overheard this morning put it out of all doubt.

Bel. What did you overhear this morning? Ful. Why, it seems he wants to join his regiment, and has been beating the town over to raise a little money for that purpose upon his pay; but the climate, I find, where he is going, is so unhealthy, that nobody can be found to lend him

any.

Bel. Why then, your town is a damned goodfor-nothing town; and I wish I had never come into it.

Ful. That's what I say, sir; the hard-heartedness of some folks is unaccountable. There's an old Lady Rusport, a near relation of this gentleman's; she lives hard by here, opposite to Stock. well's, the great merchant; he sent to her a-begging, but to no purpose; though she is as rich as a Jew, she would not furnish him with a farthing.

Bel. Is the captain at home?
Ful. He is up stairs, sir.

Bel. Will you take the trouble to desire him to step hither? I want to speak to him.

Fut. I'll send him to you directly. I don't know what to make of this young man ; but, if I live, I will find him out, or know the reason why. [Exit FUL. Bel. I've lost the girl, it seems: that's clear: she was the first object of my pursuit; but the case of this poor officer touches me: and, after all, there may be as much true delight in rescuing a fellow-creature from distress, as there would be in plunging one into it-But, let me seeIt's a point that must be managed with some de licacy- -Apropos ! there's pen and ink- I've struck upon a method that will do.-[Writes.]— Ay, ay, this is the very thing: 'twas devilish lucky I happened to have these bills about me. There, there, fare you well; I'm glad to be rid of you; you stood a chance of being worse applied, I can tell you.

[Encloses and seals the paper. FULMER brings in Captain DUDLEY. Ful. That's the gentleman, sir.—I shall make [Exit FUL.

bold, however, to lend an ear.

Dud. Have you any commands for me, sir?
Bel. Your name is Dudley, sir?

Dud. It is.

formed you was about to join your regiment in distant quarters abroad?

Dud. I have been soliciting an exchange to a company on full-pay, quartered at James's Fort, in Senegambia; but I'm afraid, I must drop the undertaking.

Bel. Why so, pray?

Dud. Why so, sir? 'Tis a home question for a perfect stranger to put; there is something very particular in all this.

Bel. If it is not impertinent, sir, allow me to ask you what reason you have for despairing of success?

Dud. Why really, sir, mine is an obvious rea son for a soldier to have Want of money; simply that.

Bel. May I beg to know the sum you have occasion for?

Dud. Truly, sir, I cannot exactly tell you on a sudden; nor is it, I suppose, of any great consequence to you to be informed; but I should guess, in the gross, that two hundred pounds would serve.

Bel. And do you find a difficulty in raising that sum upon your pay? 'Tis done every day. Dud. The nature of the climate makes it difficult; I can get no one to ensure my life.

Bel, Oh! that's a circumstance may make for you, as well as against: in short, Captain Dudley, it so happens, that I can command the sum of two hundred pounds: seek, therefore, no farther; I'll accommodate you with it upon easy terms.

Dud. Sir! do I understand you rightly?—I beg your pardon ; but am I to believe that you are in earnest?

Bel. What is your surprise? Is it an uncom mon thing for a gentleman to speak truth? Or is it incredible that one fellow-creature should assist another?

Dud. I ask your pardon- -May I beg to know to whom- Do you propose this in the way of business?

Bel. Entirely I have no other business on earth.

Dud. Indeed!-You are not a broker, I'm persuaded? Bel. I am not.

Dud. Nor an army agent, I think?

Bel. I hope you will not think the worse of me for being neither; in short, sir, if you will peruse this paper, it will explain to you who I am, and

Dud. I did: I am now upon half-pay.
Bel. You've served some time?

Dud. A pretty many years; long enough to see some people of more merit, and better interest than myself, made general officers.

Bel. Their merit I may have some doubt of; their interest I can readily give credit to: there is little promotion to be looked for in your profession, I believe, without friends, captain?

Dud. I believe so, too: have you any other business with me, may I ask?

Bel. Your patience for a moment. I was in

step home, and fetch the money, and we will conclude the bargain without loss of time. In the mean while, good day to you. [Exit hastily.

Dud. Humph! there's something very odd in all this-let me see what we've got hereThis paper is to tell me who he is, and what are his terms: in the name of wonder, why has he sealed it?—Hey-day! what's here? two banknotes of a hundred each! I cann't comprehend what this means.

Hold; here's a writing; perhaps that will shew me.Accept this trifle: pur'sue your fortune, and prosper.' Am I in a dream? Is this a reality?

to the list—you shall keep your promise with Lady Rusport; she requires me to leave London; I shall go in a few days, and you may take what credit you please from my compliance.

O'Fla. Give me your hand, my dear boy! This will make her my own: when that's the case, we shall be brothers, you know, and we'll share her fortune between us.

Dud. More miracles on foot! So, so, from Lady Rusport.

O'Fla. You're right; it's from her ladyship. Dud. Well, sir, I have cast my eye over it; 'tis short and peremptory; are you acquainted with the contents?

O'Fia. Not at all, my dear; not at all. Dud. Have you any message from Lady Rus- port?

O'Fla. Not a syllable, honey; only, when you've digested the letter, I've a little bit of a message to deliver you from myself.

Dud. And may I beg to know who yourself is?

O'Fla. Dennis O'Flaherty, at your service; a poor major of grenadiers; nothing better.

Dud. So much for your name and title, sir; now, be so good to favour me with your message. O'Fia. Why, then, captain, I must tell you, I have promised Lady Rusport you shall do whatever it is she bids you to do in that letter there.

Dad. Ay, indeed? have you undertaken so much, major, without knowing either what she commands, or what I can perform?

O'Fla. That's your concern, my dear, not mine; I must keep my word, you know.

Dud. Or else, I suppose, you and I must mea. sure swords?

O'Fla. Upɔn my soul, you've hit it!

Dad. That would hardly answer to either of us: you and I have, probably, had enough of fighting in our time before now.

O'Fla. Faith and troth, master Dudley, you may say that 'tis thirty years, come the time, that I have followed the trade, and in a pretty many countries. Let me see-In the war before last I served in the Irish brigade, d'ye see; there, after bringing off the French monarch, I left his service, with a British bullet in my body, and this ribbon in my button-hole. Last war I followed the fortunes of the German eagle, in the corps of grenadiers; there I had my belly full of fighting, and a plentiful scarcity of every thing else. After six-and-twenty engagements, great and small, I went off, with this gash on my skull, and a kiss of the empress queen's sweet hand, (Heaven bless it!) for my pains. Since the peace, my dear, I took a little turn with the confederates there in Poland-but such another set of madcaps! by the lord Harry, I never knew what it was they were scuffling about!

Dud. Well, major, I won't add another action

reasons?

O'Fla. Upon the best grounds in the world.— First, I think she will comply, because she is a woman: secondly, I am persuaded she won't hold out long, because she's a widow: and thirdly, I make sure of her, because I've married five wives (en militaire, captain), and never failed yet; and, for what I know, they're all alive and merry at this very hour.

Dud. Well, sir, go on and prosper : if you can inspire Lady Rusport with half your charity, I shall think you deserve all her fortune: at present, I must beg your excuse: good morning to you.

[Exit

O'Fla. A good sensible man, and very much of a soldier! I did not care if I was better acquainted with him but 'tis an awkward kind of country for that; the English, I observe, are close friends, but distant acquaintance. I suspect the old lady has not been over generous to poor Dudley; I shall give her a little touch about that: upon my soul, I know but one excuse a person can have for giving nothing-and that is, like myself, having nothing to give.

[Exit.

SCENE IV.-Changes to Lady RUSPORT'S
House. A Dressing Room.

Enter Miss RUSPORT and LUCY. Char. Well, Lucy, you've dislodged the old lady at last; but methought you was a tedious time about it.

Lucy. A tedious time, indeed; I think they, who have least to spare, contrive to throw the most away. I thought I should never have got her out of the house.

Char. Why, she's as deliberate in canvassing every article of her dress, as an ambassador would be in settling the preliminaries of a treaty.

Lucy. There was a new hood and handkerchief, that had come express from Holborn-hill on the occasion, that took as much time in adjusting

Char. As they did in making, and she was as vain of them as an old maid of a young lover.

Lucy. Or a young lover of himself. Then, madam, this being a visit of great ceremony to a person of distinction, at the west end of the town, the old chariot was dragged forth on the occasion, with strict charges to dress out the box with the leopard-skin hammer-cloth.

Char. Yes, and to hang the false tails on the miserable stumps of the old crawling cattle.

Well, well, pray Heaven the crazy affair don't break down again with her at least, till she gets to her journey's end! But where's Charles Dudley? Run down, dear girl, and be ready to let him in; I think he's as long in coming as she was in going.

:

Lucy. Why, indeed, madam, you seem the more alert of the two, I must say. [Exit. Chus. Now, the deuce take the girl for putting that notion into my head! I'm sadly afraid Dudley does not like me so much encouragement as I have given him to declare himself, I never could get a word from him on the subject. This may be very honourable, but, upon my life, it's very provoking. By the way, I wonder how I look today: Oh, shockingly! hideously pale! like a witch! This is the old lady's glass; and she has left some of her wrinkles on it. How frightfully have I put on my cap! all awry! and my hair dressed so unbecomingly! altogether, I am a most complete fright.

CHARLES DUDLEY comes in, unobserved.
Charles. That I deny.
Char. Ah!

Charles. Quarrelling with your glass, cousin?Make it up; make it up, and be friends: it cannot compliment you more, than by reflecting you

as you are.

Char. Well, I vow, my dear Charles, that is delightfully said, and deserves my very best curtsey: your flattery, like a rich jewel, has a value not only from its superior lustre, but from its extraordinary scarceness: I verily think this is the only civil speech you ever directed to my person in your life.

Charles. And I ought to ask pardon of your good sense for having done it now.

Char. Nay, now you relapse again: don't you know, if you keep well with a woman on the great score of beauty, she'll never quarrel with you on the trifling article of good sense? But any thing serves to fill up a dull yawning hour with an insipid cousin; you have brighter moments, and warmer spirits, for the dear girl of your heart.

Charles. Oh, fie upon you! fie upon you! Char. You blush, and the reason is apparent: you are a novice in hypocrisy ; but no practice can make a visit of ceremony pass for a visit of choice. Love is ever before its time; friendship is apt to lag a little after it: pray, Charles, did you make any extraordinary haste hither?

Charles. By your question, I see you acquit me of the impertinence of being in love.

Char. But why impertinence? Why the impertinence of being in love? You have one language for me, Charles, and another for the woman of your affection.

Charles. You are mistaken; the woman of my affection shall never hear any other language from me, than what I use to you.

Char. I am afraid then, you'll never make yourself understood by her.

Charles. It is not fit I should; there is no need

no more.

Char. Well, I can be silent. Thus does he always serve me, whenever I am about to disclose myself to him. [Aside. Charles. Why do you not banish me and my misfortunes for ever from your thoughts?

Char. Ay, wherefore do I not, since you never allowed me a place in yours! But go, sir; I have no right to stay you; go where your heart directs you; go to the happy, the distinguished fair one.

Charles. Now, by all that's good, you do me wrong: there is no such fair one for me to go to; nor have I an acquaintance among the sex, yourself excepted, which answers to that description.

Char. Indeed?

Charles. In very truth: there, then, let us drop the subject. May you be happy, though I never

can.

Char. O Charles! give me your hand: if I have offended you, I ask your pardon: you have been long acquainted with my temper, and know how to bear with its infirmities.

Charles. Thus, my dear Charlotte, let us seal our reconciliation. [Kissing her hand.] Bear with thy infirmities! By Heaven, I know not any one failing in thy whole composition, except that of too great a partiality for an undeserving man.

Char. And you are now taking the very course to augment that failing. A thought strikes me: I have a commission that you must absolutely execute for me: I have immediate occasion for the sum of two hundred pounds: you know my fortune is shut up till I am of age; take this paltry box (it contains my ear-rings, and some other baubles I have no use for), carry it to our opposite neighbour, Mr Stockwell (I don't know where else to apply), leave it as a deposit in his hands, and beg him to accommodate me with that

sum.

Charles. Dear Charlotte, what are you about to do? How can you possibly want two hundred pounds?

Char. How can I possibly do without it, you mean? Doesn't every lady want two hundred pounds? Perhaps I have lost it at play : perhaps I mean to win as much to it; perhaps I want it for two hundred different uses.

Charles. Pooh! Pooh! all this is nothing; don't I know you never play?

Char. You mistake; I have a spirit to set not only this trifle, but my whole fortune, upon a stake therefore, make no wry faces, but do as I bid you: you will find Mr Stockwell a very honourable gentleman.

Enter LUCY in haste. Lucy. Dear madam, as I live, here comes the old lady in a hackney-coach.

Char. The old chariot has given her a second tumble: away with you! you know your way out without meeting her take the box, and do as I desire you.

Charles. I must not dispute your orders. Farewell! [Exeunt CHARLES and CHARLotte.

SCENE V.

Enter Lady RUSPORT, leaning on Major O'FLAHERTY'S arm.

O'Fla. Rest yourself upon my arm; never spare it; 'tis strong enough: it has stood harder service than you can put it to.

Lucy. Mercy upon me, what is the matter! I am frightened out of my wits: has your ladyship had an accident?

Lady Rus. O, Lucy! the most untoward one in nature! I know not how I shall repair it.

O' Fla. Never go about to repair it, my lady; even build a new one; 'twas but a crazy piece of business at best.

Lucy. Bless me! is the old chariot broke down with you again?

Lady Rus. Broke, child! I don't know what might have been broke, if, by great good fortune, this obliging gentleman had not been at hand to assist me.

Lucy. Dear madam, let me run and fetch you a cup of the cordial drops.

Lady Rus. Do, Lucy. Alas, sir! ever since I lost my husband, my poor nerves have been shook to pieces: there hangs his beloved picture that precious relic, and a plentiful jointure, is all that remains to console me for the best of men.

O'Fla. Let me see: i'faith a comely personage! by his fur cloak, I suppose he was in the Russian service; and, by the gold chain round his neck, I should guess he had been honoured with the order of St Catharine.

Lady Rus. No, no; he meddled with no St Catharines: that's the habit he wore in his may orality: Sir Stephen was lord-mayor of London: but he is gone, and has left me a poor, weak, solitary widow behind him.

O'Fia. By all means, then, take a strong, able, hearty man to repair his loss. If such a plain fellow as one Dennis O'Flaherty can please you, I think I may venture to say, without any disparagement to the gentleman in the fur-gown there

Lady Rus. What are you going to say? Don't shock my ears with any comparisons, I desire. O'Fla. Not I, by my soul! I don't believe there's any comparison in the case.

Lady Rus. Oh, are you come? Give me the drops; I'm all in a flutter!

O'Fla. Hark'e, sweetheart, what are those same drops? have you any more left in the bottle? I didn't care if I took a little sip of them myself.

Lucy. Oh, sir, they are called the cordial restorative elixir, or the nervous golden drops ;they are only for ladies' cases.

O'Fla. Yes, yes, my dear, there are gentlemen as well as ladies that stand in need of those same golden drops: they'd suit my case to a tittle. [Drinks, Lady Rus. Well, major, did you give old Dudley my letter? and will the silly man do as I bid him, and be gone?

O'Fla. You are obeyed : he's on his march. Lady Rus. That's well; you have managed this matter to perfection. I didn't think he would have been so easily prevailed upon.

O'Fla. At the first word; no difficulty in life; 'twas the very thing he was determined to do, before i came: I never met a more obliging gentleman.

Lady Rus. Well, 'tis no matter, so I am but rid of him and his distresses: would you believe it, Major O'Flaherty, it was but this morning he sent a-begging to me for money to fit him out upon some wild-goose expedition to the coast of Africa, I know not where?

O'Fla. Well, you sent him what he wanted? Lady Rus. I sent him what he deserved, a flat refusal.

O'Fla. You refused him?
Lady Rus. Most undoubtedly.
O'Fla. You sent him nothing?
Lady Rus Not a shilling.

O'Fla. Good morning to you-Your servant

[Going. Lady Rus. Hey-day! what ails the man? where are you going?

O'Fla. Out of your house, before the roof falls on my head-to poor Dudley, to share the little modicum that thirty years hard service has left me. I wish it was more for his sake.

Lady Rus. Very well, sir; take your course; I sha'n't attempt to stop you: I shall survive it; it will not break my heart, if I never see you