Oliv. No matter. I'm all impatience till we are out of

the house.

Gar. Bless me, madam, I had almost forgot the wedding ring!--the sweet little thing--I don't think it would go on my little finger. And what if I put in a gentleman's night-cap, in case of necessity, madam? Jarvis.

Enter JARVIS.

Oliv. O Jarvis, are you come at last! ready this half hour. Now let's be going. Jar. Ay, to Jericho! for we shall ha

Scotland this bout, I fancy.

Oliv. How! what's the matter?

But here's

We have been

Let us fly!

no going to

Jar. Money, money, is the matter, madam. We have got no money. What the plague do you send me of your fool's errand for? My master's bill upon the city is not worth a rush. Here it is; Mrs. Garnet may pin up her

hair with it.

Oliv. Undone! What shall we do?

How could Honeywood serve us so!
Can't we go without it?

Jar. Go to Scotland without money! to Scotland without money! Lord, how some people understand geogra phy! We might as well set sail for Patagonia upon a cork jacket.

Oliv. Such a disappointment! What a base insincere man was your master, to serve us in this manner! Is this his good nature?

Jar. Nay, don't talk ill of my master, madam. I won't bear to hear any body talk ill of him but myself.

Gar. Bless us! now I think on't, madam, you need not be under any uneasiness: I saw Mr. Leontine receive for. ty guineas from his father just before he set out, and he

can't yet have left the inn. A short letter will reach him there.

Oliv. Well remembered, Garnet; I'll write immediately. How's this! Bless me, my hand trembles so, I can't write a word. Do you write, Garnet; and, upon second thought, it will be better from you.

Gar. Truly, madam, I write and indite but poorly. I never was kute at my learning. But I'll do what I can to please you. Let me see. All out of my own head, I suppose?

Oliv. Whatever you please.

Gar. [Writing.] Muster Croaker-Twenty guineas, madam?

Oliv. Ay, twenty will do.

Gar. At the bar of the Talbot till called for. Expedition-Will be blown up-all of a flame-Quick, despatch-Cupid, the little god of love—I conclude it, madam, with Cupid; I love to see a love-letter end like poetry.

Oliv. Well, well, what you please, any thing. But how shall we send it? I can trust none of the servants of this family.

Gar. Odso, madam, Mr. Honeywood's butler is in the next room: he's a dear sweet man, he'll do any thing for

me.

Jar. He! the dog, he'll certainly commit some blunder. He's drunk and sober ten times a day.

Oliv. No matter. Fly, Garnet; any body we can trust will do. [Exit Garnet:] Well, Jarvis, now we can have nothing more to interrupt us. You may take up the things and carry them on to the inn. Have you no hands, Jarvis?

Jar. Soft and fair, young lady. You that are going to be married, think things can never be done too fast: but we that are old, and know what we are about, must elope methodically, madam.

Olw. Well, sure, if my indiscretions were to be done over again

Jar. My life for it, you would do them ten times over. Oliv. Why will you talk so? If you knew how unhappy they make me.

Jar. Very unhappy, no doubt: I was once just as unhappy when I was going to be married myself.

you a story about that-

I'll tell

Oliv. A story! when I'm all impatience to be away. Was there ever such a dilatory creature!-

Jar. Well, madam, if we must march, why we will march; that's all. Though, odds bobs! we have still forgot one thing, we should never travel without-a case of good razors, and a box of shaving powder. But no mat. ter, I believe we shall be pretty well shaved by the way.

Enter GARnet.

[Going.

Gar. Undone, undone, madam. Ah, Mr. Jarvis, you said right enough. As sure as death, Mr. Honeywood's rogue of a drunken butler dropped the letter before he went ten yards from the door. There's old Croaker has just picked it up, and is this moment reading it to himself in the hall.

Oliv. Unfortunate! We shall be discovered.

Gar. No, madam: don't be uneasy, he can make neither head nor tail of it. To be sure he looks as if he was broke loose from bedlam about it, but he can't find what it means for all that. O lud, he is coming this way all e horrors.

Oliv. Then let us leave the house this instant, for fear be should ask further questions. In the mean time, Garnet, do you write and send off just such another. [Exeunt.

Enter CROAKER.

Cro. Death and destruction! Are all the horrors of air, fire, and water, to be levelled only at me! Am I only to be singled out for gunpowder-plots, combustibles, and conflagration! Here it is-An incendiary letter dropped at my door. "To muster Croaker, these with speed." Ay, ay, plain enough the direction: all in the genuine incendiary spelling, and as cramp as the devil. "With speed." O, confound your speed. But let me read it once more. [Reads.] "Muster Croaker, as sone as yoew see this leve twenty guineas at the bar of the Talboot tell called for or yowe and yower experetion will be all blown up." Ah, but too plain. Blood and gunpowder in every line of it. Blown up! murderous dog! All blown up! Heavens! what have I and my poor family done, to be all blown up! [Reads.] "Our pockets are low, and money we must have." Ay, there's the reason; they'll blow us up because they have got low pockets. [Reads.] "It is but a short time you have to consider; for if this takes wind, the house will quickly be all of a flame." Inhuman monsters! blow us up, and then burn us. The earthquake at Lisbon was but a bonfire to it. [Reads.] "Make quick despatch, and so no more at present. But may Cupid, the little god of love, go with you wherever you go." The little god of love! Cupid, the little god of love, go with me! Go you to the devil, you and your little Cupid together; I'm so frightened, I scarce know whether I sit, stand, or go.

Perhaps this moment I'm treading on lighted matches, blazing brimstone, and barrels of gunpowder. They are preparing to blow me up into the clouds. Murder! We shall be all burnt in our beds! we shall be all burnt in our beds!

Enter Miss RICHLAND.

Miss Rich. Lord, sir, what's the matter?

Cro. Murder's the matter.

in our beds before morning.

We shall all be blown up

Miss Rich. I hope not, sir.

Cro. What signifies what you hope, madam, when I have a certificate of it here in my hand? Will nothing alarm my family? Sleeping and eating, sleeping and eating is the only work from morning till night in my house. My insensible crew could sleep though rocked by an earthquake; and fry beef steaks at a volcano.

Miss Rich. But, sir, you have alarmed them so often already, we have nothing but earthquakes, famines, plagues, and mad dogs, from year's end to year's end. You remember, sir, it is not above a month ago, you assured us of a conspiracy among the bakers to poison us in our bread; and so kept the whole family a week upon pota

toes.

Cro. And potatoes were too good for them. But why do I stand here talking to a girl, when I should be facing the enemy without? Here, John, Nicodemus, search the house. Look into the cellars to see if there be any combustibles below; and above in the apartments, that no matches be thrown in at the windows. Let all the fires be put out, and let the engine be drawn out in the yard, to play upon the house in case of necessity. [Exit. Miss Rich. alone. What can he mean by all this? Yet,