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THE WILL:

A

COMEDY.

ACT. I.

SCENE - The Gate of Mandeville Castle, and

View of surrounding Country.
Enter MANDEVILLE and ROBERT.

ROBERT. JOY! I give you joy, Sir! - Once more welcome to Mandeville Castle! - Look, Sir! there stands the old pile, just as we left it fourteen years ago! Shall I knock at the gate?

Mand. Lose not a moment. (Robert knocks.) I have travelled far to have the mystery unravelled; and till I know why I have been thus treated -- why for three tedious years I have received no letter from my father -no tidings of my child-the interval is insupportable!

Robert. Pretty treatment, indeed, Sir!-- to bring two gentlemen from India --all the way from the shores of Bengal to the coast of Devonshire--only to get an answer to our letters!

Mandeville.) Sir, I'll trouble you for that two hundred pounds you owe me!

Robert. Psha! - this isn't a proper time-
Real. Where is

my money, Sir? Robert. Nonsense! His father will satisfy you. - Come — we'll all pay the old gentleman a visit together. (Laying hold of Realize's arm.)

Real. Softly, master Robert — You may both go to the old gentleman as soon as you like; but, for me, I don't intend to pay him a visit these twenty years.

Mand. No! - Why, where is he?

Real. Where, I can't exactly say—only I fancy you are about as far from him now as when you were hot in Bengal.

Mand. What, is he gone abroad? Real. No; he's gone home! - he's dead! defunct !- was buried twelve months ago!

Mand. Dead! -- My father dead! - I didn't expect this., (Putting his handkerchief to his eyes.)

Robert. No more did I, Sir-Oh! h! h! (Weeping violently.)

Real. Why, what's the milksop crying at?

Robert. I'm crying to think what troubleold Mr. Mandeville's death will occasion to my poor master~What a' fatigue it will be to collect in all the rents—to pay his debts—to discharge you, and appoint me steward in your place - Oh! h! h!

Real. Indeed !-If that's all that afflicts you, dry up your tears, booby-Your master is disinherited.

Robert. Disinherited! Real. Cut off with a shilling! – Mr. Mandeville has left his whole estate to a woman.

Robert, A woman! --Oh! the old profligate!

Real. To your child, Sir (To Mandeville.) to his own grand daughter!

Mand. To Albina!

Robert. Bravo! Then it comes to the same point: - my master of course manages the property, and I'm steward still.

Real. There you're out again! I rather think Mrs. Rigid will manage the property. I rather imagine the young heiress will be ruled by the old governess; and as you've been no friend to her, Mr. Mandeville

Mand. No friend to her!-How?

Real. Nay: perhaps you may call it friendship to leave her to support your daughter at her own expence; perhaps you may call it friendship, not to write any letters, or remit any money, for three years together.

Mand. Go on, Sir; let me know all.

Real. Why then you may know that Mrs. Rigid informed the late Mr. Mandeville of your unfatherlike conduct; that he invited her and his grand-daughter to his house, and taking a fancy to Miss Albina, he made her his heiress. There now you've heard the whole story; and I shall call it friendship if you'll pay me my two hundred pounds.

Mand. Not write letters! - Not remit mo. ney!- Hear me, Sir.

Real. Not now. - The heiress is expected from Dover every moment, and I must go and prepare the Castle for her reception. Come along, Poacher; come and deliver your keys to your

I'll take out a writ directly, and he sha'n't slip through my fingers a second time -(Aside.) No more disguises, Mr. MandevilleNo more Sunday-men, Mr. Steward. -« Oh! what trouble will the old gentleman's death oc

successor

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