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they do say these muslins are so thin and unwholesome, that soon after the wife do wear white, the husband do wear black; and, therefore, that married men ought not to grudge this expence, do you see.
Leonard, And does Sir Herbert thus submit? But, perhaps, she makes amends by a well ordered and well managed house.
Shenkin. Pless ycu--the house has ng manager; for there is Sir Herbert paying twelve servants, and waiting on himselt ;-leeping in a pig canopied bed, in sheets as damp as the Severn ;-ficcing in a great gold chair, with only a little chop for his dinner ;-master of the rarest horles and carriages, and paddling into the city with an old umbrella to try to raise money to pay for them: but, however, if it be likely to end the sooner, I am not forry she do dress herself like a Druid.
Leonard. 'Sdeath! 'cis unbearable-But, since I must, let me at once encounter ic. Malccur, good day; and, when convenient, make my father's house your home. (Sbenkin laughs.) Why, what do you smile at, Shenkin? ---You know he's fam'd for hospitality.
Shenkin. Ifs, in Wales : but Mr. Malcour, do know there be nothing of the kind here--for inteed, and upon my life, you'll get nothing to eat but canopied beds, gold chairs, and white muflins. This way-follow you Caractacus.
Malcour. I'll see you in the evening-and, be assured, let fortune treat you as she will, you'll find a friend in Malcour. [Exeunt Leonard
and Shenkin at Gate.] So far, fo well The fickle Ellen thinks me still her friend; and, aided thus by Leonard, my hopes of vengeance will be cenfold,
Dr. Infallible fings without. Heh? What fine gentleman have we here? Surely I recollect that face.
Enter Dr. Infallible, and Edward bis Servant, Doslor.“ Ti di diddle liddle."- What, Mr. Mal. cour! My old acquaintance, Mr. Malcour!
Malcour. Whv, it can't be! You, the half starved journeyman 10 the half farved apothecary, who used to bring me medicines at Gloucester -- You, Tom Drudgewell!
Dostor. Mum-Not Tom Drudgewell now-Ever read the newipapers ? (taking snuff offeElediy.)
Malcour. To be fureihe fellow's always puffing himself.
Doctor. Be quiet-I'm Dr. Infallible.
DoEt pr. Yes! I'm fue provietor and ingenious in. ventor of that immortal medicine, call'd Radix Rhenoto be sold at my own house, price eight Chiliings and fixpence a bottle, ftam.p inclusive. N. B. No cure, no pay- and a lamp over the door, to shew the Doctor don't practile in the dark.
Malcour. Bravo! And prav—for I forget-what is this Rhadix Rheno a cure for?
Dostor. Every thing. Chirosis, Polypus, Ophon. dria, Aftherea, Dyspepsia, Atrophy, Notrophy, and that worst of all disorders, Poverty.
Ma!cour. So I see--and that's a complaint I'm ac. quainted with. But, curse me, if ever I heard of the rest.
Doctor. Nor I, 'till I turn'd Quack.
Malcour. What the devil ! do you invent these disorders ?
DcElor. No- ur medicines invent them. We give the remedy, and that gives the disease.
Malcour. Indeed! And don't the cown find you out?
Doctor. Can'ı-dead men tell no tales.But, excuse me one instant-Edward, take this let.er-Compliments to Sir Herbert, and best love to Georgiana.
(Exit Edward at Gateway. Malcour. To Georgiana! Why, zounds! have you the audacity to aspire Doktor. Hush
-say nothing--I'll buy her (taking fnuff.) Cupid's a quack medicine, plealant, pernicious, corrupt, and damn'd expensive--I'll buy her.
Malcour. Ridiculous! Do you suppose Sir Herbert will confent?
Dostor. Not ye—but his wife must have money, and that letter offers him a friendly loan of fome thousandsyou understand--and now come home to dinner.-My chariot there shall take you-look- A carriage makes a Doctor you know (looking out.)
Malcour (also looking out.) Your carriage! Why, that's a hearse.
Doktor. So it is.-Well, that's also my carriage; for if chariots set the doctors going, dam'me, but the doctors set the hearses going.
Malcour. True ; but I must visit an old friend, at that house yonder-lo adieu !
Doctor. That! What, chat house where the knocker's tied up!-dear delicious fight !-Oh! turtle to an alderman--gold co a misera mistress to her lover-isn't half fo gratifying as a tied up knocker to a medical man. But, adieu! and when you want a dinner, you know where to find one--and sure of the best company—that is, fure of venison, turbot, Burgundy, and Champagne. (Going -- stops.) I say though-that tied up knocker! Cou'dn't you recommend !-No-don't trouble yourfelf.-Dare say my Radix Rheno has been there already.
SCENE III.-An Apartment at Sir Herbert's.
Enter Leonard and Georgiana. Georgiana. Yes, Mr. Leonard, had it been otherwise, none had more welcomed your return than Georgiana.But when you quit a station you fo honour, to be the victim of unequalld folly, can she rejoice to see you?No, no,-- indeed I am not so felfish.
Leonard. I cannot understand you I was sent for home to join in selling my paternal land.
Georgiana. And do you mean to comply?
Leonard. Most cheerfully—'will be the proudest moment of my life, when I can prove to such a father, I am deserving of the name of Ton.
Georgiana. Then all is loft!--This money will be squandered like the rest, and no resource remains. Oh! be resolute do not a deed he will hereafter curse you for ; but by opposing, save him.
Leonard. Oppose him! ---oppose my father! This is the first request he ever made me, and if I e'er alk'd, did be refule?' No-he gave the life that animates this arm-and, till life ceases, it shall move as he directs ! And yet, for such a suppliant I could do much-I'm sure you have no motive but our mutual welfare,
Georgiana, Indeed I have not I could not bear to see
you both involv'd in misery and ruin - But, lookwe are interrupted-my other guardian comes.
Leonard. What! Poft Obit! Why, what, at last, brings him to London?
Georgiana. He comes to take possession of a legacy is on a visit here--and more than ever governed by Sir Herbert—but go—your father waits for you, and thus far indulge me—at least reflect on what I've said.
Leonard, I will with gratitude ; for if there be a joy beyond all others, it is to know that such a heart as yours takes interest in my face. Thanks, thanks! (kisses ber band.)
[Exit. Georgiana. Oh, yes ! you little think how deep the interest it takes. But what avails it? Sir Herbert countenances other lovers, and while I stay in this decelted house, each moment teems with danger.
Enter Post Cbit (in deep mourning). Poft Obit.Oh, my dear girl ! your poor guardian can scarce speak for vexation.
Georgiana. No! why, what has happened, Sir?
Post Obit. What! why, didn't I for the first time in my lite visit London, in order to take poffeffion of a large legacy left me by my East Indian neighbour ? and didn't I purchase a new villa, a new farm, and this new suit of mourning on the strength of ic? And, now, when I wait on the executor to touch the cash, they tell me the wili has got a flaw. Georgiana. A haw, Sir!
Post Obit. Yes, a cursed flaw! They say the East Indian forgot what the lawyers call an appointment but what I call a disappointment-or here am I with all these new expences-and, thanks to this Bengal blunderer, not a shilliig left to pay for them.
Georgiana. It is very unfortunate, Sir! but I hope you will find a recompence in the two letters of recommendation you brought with you from Devonshire-the one to the rich old widow in Pall Mall.
Post Obit. Why, there again--the rich old widow's carried off.
Georgiana. Carried off! by whom, Sir?
" She died, and made no sign ;"-or, in plainer words, departed without a will,
Georgiana. Well, but the other perfon, Sir.
Post Obit. Ay, there we live again. This letter (producing it) to a cousin I have never seen -- to the rich Thomas Tick, esquire---proprietor of a great castle in the north--Hark ye-quarrelled with all his other relations, and, owing to town distipation,-leverish, rheumatic-Oh! London is the place to form friendships in-There, they've bad health and found lawyers-Bui, in the country! -curfe 'em-hey've no Aaws but in their wills—and yet, London has one inconvenienceI don't like Sir Herbert's house.
Georgiana. No more do I, Sir. --And if you would but remove me from his protection, and place me un. der your own
Post Obit. I'm afraid,
Georgiana. Nay, if you knew the perils I'm exposed to-This very hour he received an offer of five chou. fand pounds, from one, whose hand I have rejected and, to a man involved and harrassed as Sir Herbert is -O my friend, protect me.
Poft Obit. I'would-but I cannot screw myself up to it. Sdeach! from a boy he has turned me round his finger And, after all my submission, when I found out he had only bequeathed me a hundred pounds, and spoke my mind tu hin-Gad! he tent me a chals lenge-inviced me to Hyde Park-yes, he did, and I,