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Jar. Nay, don't talk ill of my mafter, madam. I won't bear to hear any body talk ill of him but myfelf.

Gar. Blefs us! now I think on't, madam, you need not be under any uneafiness: I faw Mr. Leontine receive forty guineas from his father just before he set out, and he can't have left the inn. A fhort letter will reach him there.

Oliv. Well remember'd, Garnet; I'll write immediately. How's this! Blefs me, my hand trembles fo, I can't write a word. Do you write, Garnet; and, upon fecond thought it will be better from you.

Gar. Truly, madam, I write and indite but poorly. I never was kute at my larning. But I'll do what I can to please you. Let me fee. All out of my own head,

I fuppofe?

Oliv. Whatever you please.

Gar. (Writing.) Mufter Croaker-Twenty guineas, madam?

Oliv. Ay, twenty will do.

Gar. At the bar of the Talbot till call'd for. Expedition will be blown up-All of a flame-Quick difpatch-Cupid, the little god of love-I conclude it, madam, with Cupid; I love to fee a love-letter end like poetry.

Oliv. Well, well, what you please, any thing. But how fhall we fend it? I can truft none of the fervants of this family.

Gar. Odfo, madam, Mr. Honeywood's Butler is in the next room he's a dear fweet man; he'll do any thing for me.

Jar. He! the dog, he'll certainly commit fome blunder. He's drunk and fober ten times a day.

Oliv. No matter. Fly, Garnet: any body we can trust will do. [Exit Garnet.] Well, Jarvis, now we can have nothing more to interrupt us. You may take up the things, and carry them on to the inn. Have you no hands, Jarvis ?

Jar. Soft and fair, young lady. You, that are going to be married, think things can never be done too fast; but we, that are old, and know what we are about, muft elope methodically, madam.

Oliv. Well, fure, if my indifcretions were to be done over again

Far. My life for it you would do them ten times over. Oliv. Why will you talk fo? If you knew how unhappy they make me

Jar. Very unhappy, no doubt: I was once just as un happy when I was going to be married myself. I'll tell you a story about that

Oliv. A ftory! when I'm all impatience to be away. Was there ever fuch a dilatory creature!

Jar. Well, madam, if we muft march, why we will march; that's all. Tho', odds bobs, we have still forgot one thing we fhould never travel without-a cafe of good razors, and a box of fhaving power. But no matter, I believe we shall be pretty well fhaved by the way. [Going.

Enter GARNET.

Gar. Undone, undone, madam. Ah, Mr. Jarvis, you faid right enough. As fure as death Mr. Honeywood's

rogue of a drunken butler, dropp'd the letter before he went ten yards from the door. There's old Croaker has juft pick'd it up, and is this moment reading it to himfelf in the hall.

Oliv. Unfortunate! we fhall be discover'd.

Gar. No, madam: don't be uneafy, he can make neither head nor tail of it. To be fure he looks as if he was broke loofe from Bedlam about it, but he cant find what it means for all that. O lud, he is coming this way all in the horrors.

Oliv. Then let us leave the houfe this inftant, for fear he should ask farther questions. In the mean time, Garnet, do you write and fend off just such another. [Exeunt.

Enter CROAKER.

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Croak. Death and deftruction! Are all the horrors of air, fire and water to be levelled only at me! Am I only to be singled out for gunpowder-plots, combustibles and conflagration! Here it is-An incendiary letter dropp'd at my door. To Mufter Croaker, thefe with fpeed.' Ay, ay, plain enough the direction: all in the genuine incendiary fpelling, and as cramp as the devil. With 'fpeed.' O, confound your speed. But let me read it once more. (Reads) ' Muster Croaker, as foné as yoew fee this leve twenty gunnes at the bar of the Talboot tell caled for or yowe and yower experetion will be al 'blown up.' Ah, but too plain. Blood and gunpowder in every line of it. Blown up! murderous dog! All blown up! Heaven! what have I and my poor family.

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done, to be all blown up! (Reads.) Our pockets are 'low, and money we must have.' Ay, there's the reafon; they'll blow us up, because they have got low pockets. (Reads.) It is but a fhort time you have to ⚫ confider; for if this takes wind, the house will quickly Inhuman monfters! blow us up, and then burn us. The earthquake at Lisbon was but a bonfire to it. (Reads.) Make quick dispatch, and fo ⚫ no more at prefent. But may Cupid, the little god of love, go with you wherever you go.' The little god of love! Cupid, the little god of love go with me! Go you to the devil, you and your little Cupid together; I'm fo frightened, I fcarce know whether I fit, ftand, or go. Perhaps this moment I'm treading on lighted matches, blazing brimftone and barrels of gunpowder. They are preparing to blow me up into the clouds. Murder! We thall all be burnt in our beds; we shall be all burnt in our beds.

Enter Miss RICHLAND.

Mifs Rich. Lord, fir, what's the matter?

Croak. Murder's the matter.

We shall be all blown

up in our beds before morning.

Mifs Rich, I hope not, fir.

Croak. What fignifies what you hope, madam, when I have a certificate of it here in my hand. Will nothing alarm my family! Sleeping and eating, sleeping and eating is the only work from morning till night in my house. My infenfible crew could fleep, tho' rock'd by an earthquake; and fry beef fteaks at a volcano.

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Mifs Ricb. But, fir, you have alarmed them fo often already, we have nothing but earthquakes, famines, plagues and mad dogs from year's end to year's end. You remember, fir, it is not above a month ago, you affur'd us of a confpiracy among the bakers, to poison us in our bread; and fo kept the whole family a week upon potatoes.

Croak. And potatoes were too good for them. But why do I stand talking here with a girl, when I should be facing the enemy without? Here, John, Nicodemus, fearch the house. Look into the cellars, to fee if there be any combuftibles below; and above, in the apartments, that no matches be thrown in at the windows. Let all the fires be put out, and let the engine be drawn out in the yard, to play upon the house in cafe of neceffity. [Exit.

Mifs Rich. [alone.] What can he mean by all this? Yet, why should I enquire, when he alarms us in this manner almost every day! But Honeywood has defired an interview with me in private. What can he mean? or, rather, what means this palpitation at his approach! It is the first time he ever fhewed any thing in his conduct that seemed particular. Sure he cannot mean tobut he's here.

Enter HONEYWOOD.

Honey. I prefumed to folicit this interview, madam, before I left town, to be permitted

Mifs Rich. Indeed! Leaving town, fir ?

Honey. Yes, madam, perhaps the kingdom. I have prefumed, I say, to defire the favour of this interview.

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