Land. I tell you, madam, it will do you good; I think I know by this time what's good for the north road. It's a raw night, madam.-Sir

Leont. Not a drop more, good madam. I should now take it as a greater favour, if you haften the horfes, for I am afraid to be seen myself.

Land. That fhall be done. Wha, Solomon! are you all dead there? Wha, Solomon, I fay.

[Exit bawling.

Oliv. Well; I dread, left an expedition begun in fear, fhould end in repentance.—Every moment we stay increases our danger, and adds to my apprehenfions.

Leont. There's no danger, truft me, my dear; there can be none; if Honeywood has acted with honour, and kept my father, as he promised, in employment till we are out of danger, nothing can interrupt our journey.

Oliv. I have no doubt of Mr. Honeywood's fincerity, and even his defires to ferve us. My fears are from your father's fufpicions. A mind fo difpofed to be alarmed without a caufe, will be but too ready when there's a reason.

Leont. Why, let him, when we are out of his power. But, believe me, Olivia, you have no great reafon to dread his refentment. His repining temper, as it does no manner of injury to himself, fo will it never do harm to others. He only frets to keep himself employed, and fcolds for his private amusement.

Oliv. I don't know that; but, I'm fure, on fome occasions it makes him look most shockingly.

CROAKER, difcovering himself.

How does he look now ?-How does he look now? Oliv. Ah!

Leont. Undone!

Croak. How do I look now? Sir, I am your very humble fervant. Madam, I am yours. What, you are going off, are you? Then, first, if you please, take a word or two from me with you before you go. Tell me first where you are going and when you have told me that, perhaps I fhall know as little as I did before.

Leont. If that be fo, our anfwer might but increase your displeasure, without adding to your information. Croak. I want no information from you, puppy : and you too, good madam, what answer have you got? Eh (A cry without, flop him.) I think I heard a noife. My friend Honeywood without-has he feized the incendiary? Ah, no, for now I hear no more on't.

Leont. Honeywood without! Then, fir, it was Mr. Honeywood that directed you hither.

Croak. No, fir, it was Mr. Honeywood conducted me hither.

Leont. Is it poffible?

Croak. Poffible! Why, he's in the house now, fir; more anxious about me, than my own fon, fir.

Leont. Then, fir, he's a villain.

Croak. How, firrah! a villain, because he takes moft care of your father? I'll not bear it. I tell you I'll not Honeywood is a friend to the family, and I'll have him treated as fuch.

bear it.

Leont. I fhall ftudy to repay his friendship as it deferves.

Croak. Ah, rogue, if you knew how earnestly he entered into my griefs, and pointed out the means to dete them, you would love him as I do. (A cry without,

ftop him.) Fire and fury! they have seized the incendiary; they have the villain, the incendiary in view. Stop him, flop an incendiary, a murderer; ftop him. [Exit. Oliv. Oh, my terrors! What can this new tumult mean?

Leont. Some new mark, I fuppofe, of Mr. Honey wood's fincerity. But we fhall have fatisfaction; he fhall give me inftant fatisfaction.

Oliv. It must not be, my Leontine, if you value my efteem or my happiness. Whatever be our fate, let us not add guilt to our misfortunes-Consider that our ́ innocence will fhortly be all we have left us. You must forgive him.

Leont. Forgive him! has he not in every inftance betrayed us? Forced me to borrow money from him, which appears a mere trick to delay us; promise to keep my father engaged till we were out of danger, and here brought him to the very scene of our escape?

Oliv. Don't be precipitate. We may yet be miftaken.

Enter POSTBOY, dragging in JARVIS; HONEYWOOD entering foon after.

Poft. Ay, mafter, we have him faft enough. Here is the incendiary dog. I'm entitled to the reward; I'll take my oath I faw him ask for the money at the bar, and then run for it.

Honey. Come, bring him along. him learn to blush for his crimes.

Let us fee him. Let (Discovering his mif

take.) Death! what's here! Jarvis, Leontine, Olivia!

What can all this mean ?

Jar. Why, I'll tell you what it means; that I was an old fool, and that you are my master-that's all. Honey. Confufion!

Leont. Yes, fir, I find you have kept your word with After fuch bafeness, I wonder how you can venture to see the man you have injured.

me.

Honey. My dear Leontine, by my life, my honour

Leon. Peace, peace, for fhame; and do not continue to aggravate baseness by hypocrify. I know you, fir, 1 know you.

Honey. Why, won't you hear me ! By all that's juft, I knew not→→→

Leont. Hear you, fir! to what purpose? I now see through all your low arts; your ever complying with every opinion; your never refufing any requeft; your friendship as common as a prostitute's favours, and as fallacious; all thefe, fir, have long been contemptible to the world, and are now perfectly so to me.

me.

Honey. Ha! contemptible to the world! that reaches [Afide. Leont. All the feeming fincerity of your profeffions, I now find, were only allurements to betray; and all your feeming regret for their confequences, only calculated to cover the cowardice of your heart. Draw, villain !

Enter CRQAKER, out of breath.

Croak. Where is the villain? Where is the incendiary ? (Seizing the postboy.) Hold him faft, the dog; he has Come, you dog, confefs; con

the gallows in his face.
fefs all, and hang yourself.

Poft. Zounds! mafter, what do you throttle me for? CROAKER, beating him.

Dog, do you refift; do you refift?

Poft. Zounds! mafter, I'm not he; there's the man that we thought was the rogue, and turns out to be one of the company.

Croak, How!

Honey. Mr. Croaker, we have all been under a ftrange miftake here; I find there is nobody guilty; it was all an error; entirely an error of our own.

1

Croak. And I fay, fir, that you're in an error; for there's guilt and double guilt, a plot, a damn'd jefuitical peftilential plot, and I must have proof of it.

Honey. Do but hear me.

Croak. What you intend to bring 'em off, I fuppofe; I'll hear nothing.

Honey. Madam, you feem at leaft calm enough to

hear reafon.

Oliv. Excufe me.

Honey. Good Jarvis, let me then explain it to you. Far. What fignifies explanations, when the thing is done.

Honey. Will nobody hear me? Was there ever fuch a fet, fo blinded by paffion and prejudice! (To the poftboy.) My good friend, I believe you'll be furprised, when I affure you—

Poft. Sure me nothing-I'm fure of nothing but a good beating.

Croak. Come, then, you madam, if you ever hope for any favour or forgiveness, tell me fincerely all you know of this affair.