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ACT v:

SCENE I.—The Street.—Scene of Lincoln's Inn*

Enter Malcour and Tom Tick,

JAakour. Vf ES; the hour qf retribution is arriv'd— I and in Leonard's wounds all Malcour's wrongs shall be reveng'd.

Tom. Nay j but where is he ? Where is my dying friend?

Malcour. In my house, under my protection—And be his Vile assassin who he may, I will detect, and punish him.

Tom. And do you as yet suspect—Malcour. I do—I much suspect his father. (Tom starts) Aye: like you I am amazed, and shudder to have cause for my suspicion. But when I find my friend assassinated in the dark—hear him exclaim, " My cruel, cruel father!" And by his fide behold an instrument of death, mark'd with Sir Herbert's name— Tom. Indeed!

Malcour. Aye: and as corroborating proofs, when I reflect on the late quarrel, and that the estate was wholly his on Leonard's death—Oh! if that dread event takes place, think you he shall escape from justice? No—I will instantly accuse him {going).

Tom. And I'll gain Post Obit's consent, and return to your house with Georgiana.

Malcour. Hold—she must not see him—If he's disturbed, his death is certain—Now, haughty Ellen, wt*ll see how much you prize a favour'd husband's life; for there's a way to save it. [Exit.

Tom,

Tom. Not disturb'd! nonsense! I'll to.Lawyer Cursitor's directly, make my will in Post Obit's favour, and return with his preserving angel. And, now, thou blind goddess! keep others blind but for a few minutes longer, and 1, and Leonard will be happy, in spite of.duns, deathhunters, devils, and doctors. • v Hjoct -'h.'Jt ;{ff#/7".

Enter (immediately j Dr. Infallible and Capias.

Dotlor. There'he goes—that's htm!

Capias. Bless you, I know Tom Tick as well as he knows Lenitive Capias—Why, we're so familiar, that he always calls me by my Christian name.

Doctor. Very well, then arrest him instantly on*that warrant for two hundred pounds—away !—Yet stop—^s I mean Post Obit should see the great Thomas Tick in a spunging house, what is your direction?

Capias (pointing off the stage). There, number 1^7, Carey-street i—And shew me a smarter mansion than Lenitive Capias's.'

Doctor. Away—take the enemy prisoner. [EwVQlpias. And now to send Post Obit to see his rich sriend;iri ast his glory 5 and then Georgiana, left to herself, will be completely in my power. Ha! ha! there's a dose for the whole trio! [£*//.

SCENE IL—'An apartment at Capias's Spunging-bouse, very elegantly furnished.Table, Chairs-, GJV. all modern and handsomeWindow Curtains up, and bars seen at the Window. . : -, •

Enter Capias, with Candles, followed by Tom Tick,/» great agitation, looking pate.

Capias. Walk in, Mr, Tick, and be composed (putting down candles^. I declare you'll fret yourself quite ill. Come, come, you know there*s nothing like a prison about roy Spunging-houle. To be sure, the bars are a

D 4 little little awkward, but we'll let down the curtains, and then, you may fancy yourself in your own lodgings..

(Capias lets down the curtains, and bars are concealed.

Tom. Plague on't! nick'd at such a moment! defeated by that rascally Doctor! my good fellow! my dear Lenitive—I've an appointment with a Lady—And, as a man of gallantry, I'm sure now-r-Do-*-do let me out for half an hour, will you?

Capias. Psha \ why don't you apply at once to your wealthy friend, Mr. Post Obit? I told you before, if he'd pass his word for you, I 'd take it; and you'd better make haste, for I'm afraid there'll be plenty of detainers.

'Tom. I know it. I lose my liberty! Georgiana her lover! Leonard his life, and all—my good, sweet Lenitive, this is the last place in which I would wish to fee Mr. Post Obit;—and if you wont let me out for half an hour—do now—do lend me two hundred pounds for half an hour—upon my honour.

Capias. What! you think you're likely to pay in half an hour?

Tom. As likely as in half a century, Lenitive.

Capias. True* but there's an end of your art here— ■here's no borrowing or spunging in a spunging house.

Tom. No—{knocking beard) go, Sir; go and attend to your customers.

Capias. Well, good night. And to shew you I bear you no ill will, I once more offer to let you out if Mr. Post Obit will be answerable. If not, don't stand fretting there, looking as pale as a ghost! Psha! why, there's nothing to remind you of a prison here, for, what with the genteel company, the elegant rooms, and the polite conversation, shew me the difference between Lenitive Capias's and a fashionable lodging house, that's all. [ Exin

Tom. Dish'd! in for life! not for myself I seel, I deserve my fate; but to involve the happiness of others T--to think that my imprisonment devotes to misery,

perhaps

perhaps to death, two as generous, and as noble hearts — well, well—drooping won't save them. Come, rouse, and exert yourself—And look! there's cause for it alreaJy j for here comes Post Obit to vent forth all his anger and reproaches—No matter—he shall fee I'll carry it off with gaiety and spirit.

Enter Post Obit (hastily).

Post Obit. So, Mr. Tick, I've sound you out at last. And, who do you think I've to thank for it?

lorn. The quack, Sir—of course the quack.

Pest Obit. Yes—I'll tell you how it was. Not feeing you at Lawyer Cursitor's, I went out to look for you, and meeting the Doctor, I ask'd him if he knew where you lodged? He told me at Mr. Capias's, N° 197,

Carey-Street and that, if I'd go there, I should fee

you in all your glory. Very well! so, owing to the darkness of the night, and my ignorance of London, 'twas sometime before 1 sound the house—and then, to be certain I was right, I laid to Mr. Capias's servant, "Are you sure Mr. Tick lodges here?" "O, yes, Sir," fays he; "I'm sure Mr. Tick is one of Mr. Capias's lodgers."—And then he smil'd, and I smil'dj— and, upon my word, I envy you these beautiful apartments. But come, I've done the agreement—so, go, go sign your will.

Tom. What, at your old facetious tricks, I fee « that's a good joke to a man that's confined.

Post Obit. Confined! what the devil—[getting close to Tom, and locking in his face) Is it so bad with you, that you are confined?

Tom. Pooh! you see it is.

Post Obit. What J and by the doctor's orders?

Tom. Why, you know it's by the doctor's orders.

Post Obit. Not I—he only told me where you lodg'd. Bless me \ he does look charmingly ill indeed! {aside) how was it? were you taken suddenly?

Tom. Very—and in the old place too, in the shoulder.

Post Obit. And if you stir out without the doctor's leave, will the consequences be dangerous?

Tern.

Tom. Fatal, you comical rogue ; fatal.

Test Obit, Bravo! If I can but get him into the night air, he'll make his will in one hour, aud take to his bed the next. {Aside.} Nonsense! go to Curfitor's— I'll stay, and satisfy the doctor.

Tom. Will you? Lenitive! (going to the wing- and tailing,')

Post Obit. Heh—who's Lenitive?

Tom. The doctor's agent—Lenitive! (calling again.)

Post Obit. The doctor's agent! Ag—Oh! Oh! I tonderstand—the apothecary. {Aside.}

Re-enter Capias.

Tom. Here, my boy—here's Mr. Post Obit—and I don't know whether he is in jest or earnest—; but he fays he'll be answerable to the doctor.

Post Obit. Yes, yes—you may let him out—I'll stay, and be answerable to the doctor. '.Capias. I'm satisfied—this way, Mr. Tick.

Tom. Ha! ha! this is the best joke 1 ever heard—» but it won't be complete till I am fairly out of the house—So, good night—It cost me some money to get into these beautiful apartments, as you call them; and if it costs you any to get out of them, you'll fay it's one of Tom Tick's legacies, you know.—Come, Lenitive—but stay—stay— (speaking as if alarm'd) suppose I'm detain'd.

Post Obit. Psha! don't let them detain you—say I'm answerable.

Tom. Better and better! ha! ha! you are, indeed,

adamn'd comical dog he! he! you'll kill me with

laughing. [Exit with Capias.

Post Obit. Ha! ha! sol kill you, curse me if I care how it's done. What a fool it is! the castle and all its magnificent appurtenances are mine—gad! I hope it's a fine soggy night—I'll fee I'll peep out of the window. [Goes up stage.

Enter

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