remain a fixture for life. But, your cafe is different; fo remember, my money, or a prison.

[Exit. Shenkin. To prifon! Send my poor aged, widowed parent to Well, well-do you, Mr. Landlord, fend her to prifon-fend her to be dead, and buried :-but, by Saint David, there is a place where I will fend you to be made as pretty toafted chis of-(Advances to Dame Shenkin, and takes her hand.) Mother, come youdon't you fit fobbing, and-Nay, nay, is this like an antient Briton, now?

Dame. No,-(rifing) And fince you've laboured to fupport me, I will endeavour. I can work ftill.

Shenkin. And fo can I-and I will get a new place, mother. But the eleven pounds 1-to raise them in an hour, without friends, without-Tear! Tear! what will become of us? (Noife at the door.) Hey! Who is coming? Plefs my foul! I do fear it is a bailiff already.Ifs, it is certainly a bailiff.

Enter Tom Tick haftily, fhutting the door after him.

Tick. So, I'm fafe-I've outrun them. (Leans against the door.) Peugh! How are you? How are you? (Nodding to Shenkin.)

Shenkin (alarmed). How you to do? How you to

do?

Tom. Sorry to break in fo abruptly—Afraid I take you by furprize.

Shenkin. Not at all-we did expect you. Mr. Pinchwell did threaten us with an officer.

Dame (afide to Shenkin). Be quiet, fon-'tis the gentleman who lodges on the first floor; and when I tell you that his debts were almost all incurred in trying to relieve a friend, you'll not affront

Shenkin. Affront! Tear! I be very forry, Sir-And yet, fomehow, I be monftrous glad you be not a bailiff.

Tom. What! you, too, a fhycock-you, too, afraid of these agreeable-My dear fellow, give me your hand.-Here's a pair of us-My name is Tom Tick,

and

and just now the rafcally landlord purposely let three officers into the paffage. I heard them, and had no other way of escape but jumping up the chimney or flying into this garret: And here I am, and if you will but shelter me till I hear from my banker-but don't fuppofe I've change for fixpence there. Only-mumcoax'd him with a prefent yesterday-two Leicestershire pigs, aged fix weeks or fo; and to-day draw a bill on him dated fix months or fo-you comprehend-one good turn

Shenkin. No, I cannot guess-can you, mother?
Dame. No, I can't conceive.

Tom. Can't you? Then I'll tell you. I am owner of an inn, call'd the Caftle, on the North Road; and my tenant, who is famous for his Leicestershire hogs, now and then indulges me with a breed. Very well! Then I fend a couple to my banker, which he can't refuse, you know, and a day or two after I draw a bill on him, which he likewife can't refufe, you know; for, having accepted the pigs, of courfe he accepts the bill; and before now, I have actually raised two hundred pounds by a fingle litter. There, that's the way to borrow

money.

Shenkin. So it is-and i'cot! Its dear pork for the banker-unless you pay it at laft.

Tom. And if I don't, the banker can afford the lofs: and for my other creditors, holders of bills, I have been fwindled of-why, they know my hand, but not my face.

Shenkin. Not know your face!

Tom. No-I fign'd to ferve a friend, who pafs'd away my notes to common ufurers; and laft week, but for a fortunate circumftance-do you know, Sir, one of these fellows called a meeting of the whole body, and advertifed it to be held in a room that projected over the New River. When, luckily, the crowd was fo immenfe, and the parties fo enraged, that, at the moment they vow'd eternal vegeance, whiz! crack! went the floor, and foufe! they all tumbled into the water. The Jews and money-lenders being used to ducking, got no damage;

damage; but the lawyers and annuity-brokers loft their fecurities -For notes and bonds not being water-proof, my name got soaked out thro' their pockets, and fo far I was completely whitewashed.

Shenkin. He! he! And your other creditors did get cool'd, and now you do start fair again.

Tom. Ay: but how long will it laft? For if my banker and another resource fails me-See-(taking out an empty purse)-not enough for a dinner.

Shenkin. Tear! That is our cafe; and we be fo hungry-and look, look you-here comes the devil to claw my poor mother for the eleven pounds.

Tom. Only eleven pounds!

Shenkin. No more: And if the do go to gaol, we fhall both lie down and die together.

Shenkin and weeps.)

(Turns to Dame

Enter Pinchwell (haftily).

Pinchwell. Zounds! I thought fo-Slipt thro' their fingers again, and you help to conceal him! (to Shenkin). Death and fire! Shall I never, never get rid of you?

Tom. Why with it? Don't I pay my rent, Mr. Landlord?

Pinchwell. Yes, and be hang'd to you. If you didn't, do you think I'd let you ftay here and ruin my trade? Don't your duns ftop up my fhop-door? And, because they're not acquainted with your perfon, don't they feize my customers?-Cram them with bills, threaten them with bailiffs-hunt-drive

Tom. Well-and hav'n't your customers cause to thank me? Hadn't they better pay my bills than yours? For, don't you treble the price of ev'ry article?-manufacture it of bad materials? and, from the earnings of the laborious poor, hav'n't you fet up a gig—and a bit of blood-and a straw bonnet ?

Pinchwell. I tell you what, curfe me if I wou'dn't give ten pounds never to fee your face again.

Tom. Would you, upon your foul?

Pinchwell,

Pinchwell. That I would-and fay I never laid out money to better advantage.

Tom. Then, I'll tell you what, make it twelve, and I'll take it.

Pinchwell. Twelve! done-there's the cafh-and now away with you, and I'll go get officers to take them away (pointing to Shenkin and Dame).

Tom. Stop-I'm off directly-but for these poor people, they may stay.

Pinchwell. Stay! why, how will they pay their debt? Tom. How! why, with your own money.-Therethere's eleven pounds to stop your mouth, Mr. Pinchwell-and there is the odd one to ftop yours, my honest Welchman-You need not examine them-they are very good-I took them juft now ;-and I perfectly agree with you (to Pinchwell) you never laid out money to better advantage-and take my advice, go and continue the recreation, you'll find it more wholefome than the gig and the ftraw-bonnet. [Exit Pinchwell.

Shenkin. Plefs you-plefs you-my poor mother is free, and Caractacus is so grateful.

Tom. For what? Didn't you protect me? And, therefore, I but repay you what I owe you-and I wish from my foul I could do the fame by all my creditors. I hate this fhifting life-and did I not reflect misfortune first involv'd me-But, pha! moralizing won't help meI muft to action.

Shenkin. So must we-we must look out for a new place, you do know.

Tom. Come on, then.

Enter Servant.

Well, Sir, what fays the banker?

Serv. Sir, I am forry to inform you, he will neither accept the bill, nor the prefent.

Tom. What! don't he bite at the pigs?

Serv. No, Sir-and Doctor Infallible won't advance you another filling.

Tom. Ungrateful, fhuffling fcoundrel!- is this-but no matter-I'll firft vifit my friend Leonard-and, then,

to the temple-I'm fure the lawyers will discount for

Shenkin. Come you-then the lawyers have not heard you do not pay your notes, I am fure.

Tom. Yes, they have-and that's the reason they advance money upon them.-If a note be punctually paid, there can be no action, you rogue, but if unpaid, think of the glorious cannonade against drawer, acceptor, and indorfers. These are their valuable bills; and the family of the Ticks are the best friends the lawyers have upon earth.

Tom. Where are the pigs?

Serv. Below, Sir.

Tom. Give them to the Welchman, and he'll bite at them,-I'll be damn'd if he don't.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-An Apartment at Poft Obit's.

Poft Obit and Georgiana.

Poft Obit. Was there ever any thing fo ungrateful! Hav'n't I fought for you, and conquered! Hav'n't I rescued you from a bullying guardian and a mountebank lover?

Georgiana. You have, Sir-I own the obligation, but

Poft Obit. But you ftill love Leonard Melmoth-you would still unite yourself with that haughty, ruined family. But, take notice, I have forbid Leonard this new house of mine-and as a proof that I mean to felect a refpectable husband for you, no man fhall marry you, that can't leave me a thumping legacy. This is the reward I expect as conqueror, and fhall enforce as guardian.

Georgiana. Enough, Sir:-I cannot marry without your confent.

Poft Obit. Yes, you may-but you lofe your whole fortune-you forfeit eighteen thousand pounds-and, ftript of every fhilling, will Leonard fo offend his father?

Georgiana.