they do fay these muflins are fo thin and unwholesome, that foon 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 fubmit? But, perhaps, she makes amends by a well ordered and well managed house.

Shenkin. Plefs ycu-the house has no manager; for there is Sir Herbert paying twelve fervants, and waiting on himfelt-fleeping in a pig canopied bed, in fheets as damp as the Severn ;-fitting in a great gold chair, with only a little chop for his dinner;-mafter of the rareft horfes and carriages, and paddling into the city with an old umbrella to try to raife money to pay for them but, however, if it be likely to end the fooner, I am not forry the do drefs herfelf like a Druid.

Leonard. 'Sdeath! 'tis unbearable-But, fince I muft, let me at once encounter it. Malceur, good day; and, when convenient, make my father's houfe your home. (Shenkin laughs.) Why, what do you fmile at, Shenkin?--You know he's fam'd for hofpitality.

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 mullins. This way-follow you Caractacus.

Malcour. I'll fee you in the evening-and, be affured, let fortune treat you as the 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 tenfold.

Dr. Infallible fings without.

Heh? What fine gentleman have we here? Surely I recollect that face.

Enter Dr. Infallible, and Edward bis Servant. Door. "Ti di diddle liddle."-What, Mr. Malcour! My old acquaintance, Mr. Malcour! Malcour

Malcour. Why, it can't be! You, the half starved journeyman to the half ftarved apothecary, who used to bring me medicines at Gloucester-You, Tom Drudgewell!

Doctor. Mum-Not Tom Drudgewell now-Ever read the new papers? (taking snuff affectedly.)

Malcour. Conftantly.

Door. Recolle&t Dr. Infallible?

Malcour. To be fure-the fellow's always puffing himself.

Doctor. Be quiet-I'm Dr. Infallible.

Malcour. You!

Doctor. Yes! I'm fole proprietor and ingenious inventor of that immortal medicine, call'd Radix Rhenoto be fold at my own houfe, price eight hilings and fixpence a bottle, ftamp inclufive. N. B. No cure, no pay and a lamp over the door, to fhew the Doctor don't practise in the dark.

Malcour. Bravo! And prav-for I forget-what is this Rhadix Rheno a cure for?

Doctor. Every thing. Chirofis, Polypus, Ophondria, Aftherea, Dyfpepfia, Atrophy, Notrophy, and that worst of all diforders, Poverty.

Malcour. So I fee--and that's a complaint I'm acquainted with. But, curfe me, if ever I heard of the

reft.

Doctor. Nor I, 'till I turn'd Quack.

Malcour. What the devil! do you invent thefe diforders?

Delor. No-our medicines invent them. We give the remedy, and that gives the disease.

Malcour. Indeed! And don't the town find you out? Doctor. Can't-dead men tell no tales. But, excuse me one inftant-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

Doctor. Hufhfay nothing I'll buy her (taking Jnuff.) Cupid's a quack medicine, pleafant, pernicious, corrupt, and damn'd expenfive--I'll buy her.

Malcour.

Malcour. Ridiculous! Do you fuppofe Sir Herbert will confent?

Doctor. Not yet-but his wife must have money, and that letter offers him a friendly loan of fome thousands— you understand-and now come home to dinner.-My chariot there fhall take you-look-A carriage makes a Doctor you know (looking out.)

Malcour (alfo looking out.) Your carriage! Why, that's a hearse.

Doctor. So it is.-Well, that's alfo my carriage; for if chariots fet the doctors going, dam'me, but the doctors fet the hearses going.

Malcour. True; but I must vifit an old friend, at that house yonder-so adieu!

Doctor. That! What, that houfe where the knocker's tied up!-dear delicious fight!-Oh! turtle to an alderman-gold to a miser-a 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 fure of the best company-that is, fure of venifon, turbot, Burgundy, and Champagne. (Going-ftops.) I fay though-that tied up knocker!Cou'dn't you recommend!-No-don't trouble yourfelf.Dare fay my Radix Rheno has been there already. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.-An Apartment at Sir Herbert's.

Enter Leonard and Georgiana.

Georgiana. Yes, Mr. Leonard, had it been otherwife, none had more welcomed your return than Georgiana.— But when you quit a ftation you fo honour, to be the victim of unequall'd folly, can fhe rejoice to fee you?— No, no,-indeed I am not fo felfifh.

I was fent for

Leonard. I cannot understand youhome to join in felling my paternal land. Georgiana. And do you mean to comply?

Leonard. Molt cheerfully-'twill be the proudest moment of my life, when I can prove to fuch a father, I am deferving of the name of fon.

Georgiana. Then all is loft!This money will be fquandered like the reft, and no refource remains. Oh! be refolute do not a deed he will hereafter curfe you for; but by oppofing, fave him.

Leonard. Oppose him!-oppose my father! This is the first request he ever made me, and if I e'er afk'd, did be refufe? No-he gave the life that animates this arm—and, till life ceafes, it fhall move as he directs! And yet, for fuch a suppliant I could do much—I'm fure you have no motive but our mutual welfare.

Georgiana. Indeed I have not-I could not bear to fee you both involv'd in mifery 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 poffeffion of a legacyis on a vifit 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 fuch a heart as yours takes intereft in my fate. Thanks, thanks! (kiffes her band.)

[Exit. Georgiana. Oh, yes! you little think how deep the intereft it takes. But what avails it? Sir Herbert countenances other lovers, and while I ftay in this detested house, each moment teems with danger.

Enter Poft 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? Poft Obit. What! why, didn't I for the first time in my life vifit London, in order to take poffeffion of a large legacy left me by my Eaft Indian neighbour? and didn't I purchase a new villa, a new farm, and this new fuit of mourning on the ftrength of it? And, now, when I wait on the executor to touch the cafh, they tell me the will has got a flaw.

Georgiana. A flaw, Sir!

Poft

Poft Obit. Yes, a curfed flaw! They fay the Eaft. Indian forgot what the lawyers call an appointmentbut what I call a difappointment-'or here am I with all these new expences-and, thanks to this Bengal blunderer, not a fhilling left to pay for them.

Georgiana. It is very unfortunate, Sir! but I hope you will find a recompence in the two letters of récommendation you bought with you from Devonshire-the one to the rich old widow in Pall Mall.

Poft Obit. Why, there again-the rich old widow's carried off.

Georgiana. Carried off! by whom, Sir?

Poft Obit. Why, by the late hard foft. « She died, and made no fign;"-or, in plainer words, departed

without a will.

Georgiana. Well, but the other perfon, Sir. Poft Obit. Ay, there we live again. This letter (producing it) to a coufin I have never feen- to the rich Thomas Tick, efquire-proprietor of a great castle in the north-Hark ye-quarrelled with all his other relations, and, owing to town diffipation,-feverish, rheu matic-Oh! London is the place to form friendships in-There, they've bad health and found lawyers-But, in the country! -curfe 'em-hey've no flaws 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 under your own

to

Poft Obit. I'm afraid.

Georgiana. Nay, if you knew the perils I'm exposed This very hour he received an offer of five thoufand pounds, from one, whofe hand I have rejected:and, to a man involved and harraffed as Sir Herbert is -O my friend, protect me.

Poft Obit. I would-but I cannot screw myself up to it. Sdeath! from a boy he has turned me round his finger-And, after all my fubmiffion, when I found out he had only bequeathed me a hundred pounds, and poke my mind to him-Gad! he fent me a chal lenge invited me to Hyde Park-yes, he did, and I,

being