you too, good madam, what answer have you got? Eh! [A cry without, stop him.] I think I heard a noise. My friend Honeywood without-has he seized the incendiary? Ah! no, for now I hear no more on't.

Leon. Honeywood without! Then, sir, it was Mr. Honeywood that directed you hither?

Cro. No, sir, it was Mr. Honeywood conducted me hither.

Leon. Is it possible?

Cro. Possible! why he's in the house now, sir: more anxious about me than my own son, sir.

Leon. Then, sir, he's a villain.

Cro. How, sirrah! a villain, because he takes most care of your father? I'll not bear it. I tell you I'll not bear it. Honeywood is a friend to the family, and I'll have him treated as such.

- Leon. I shall study to repay his friendship as it de

serves.

Cro. Ah, rogue! if you knew how earnestly he entered into my griefs, and pointed out the means to detect them, you would love him as I do. [4 cry without, stop him.] Fire and fury! they have seized the incendiary: they have the villain, the incendiary in view. Stop him! stop an incendiary! a murderer! stop him! [Exit.

Oliv. Oh, my terrors! What can this tumult mean? Leon. Some new mark, I suppose, of Mr. Honeywood's sincerity. But we shall have satisfaction: he shall give me instant satisfaction.

Oliv. It must not be, my Leontine, if you value my esteem or my happiness. Whatever be our fate, let us not add guilt to our misfortunes-Consider that our in

nocence will shortly be all that we have left us. You

must forgive him.

Leon. Forgive him! Has he not in every instance betrayed us? Forced to borrow money from him, which appears a mere trick to delay us: promised to keep my father engaged till we were out of danger, and here brought him to the very scene of our escape!

Oliv. Don't be precipitate. We may yet be mistaken.

Enter POSTBOY, dragging in JARVIS. HONEYWOOD entering soon after.

Post. Ay, master, we have him fast enough. Here is the incendiary dog. I'm entitled to the reward; I'll take my oath I saw him ask for the money at the bar, and then run for it.

Hon. Come, bring him along. Let us see him. Let him learn to blush for his crimes. [Discovering his mistake.] Death! what's here? Jarvis, Leontine, Olivia!

What can all this mean?

Jar. Why, I'll tell you what it means: that I was an old fool, and that you are my master—that's all.

me.

Hon. Confusion!

Leon. Yes, sir, I find you have kept your word with After such baseness, I wonder how you can ven

ture to see the man you have injured?

Hon. My dear Leontine, by my life, my honour— Leon. Peace, peace, for shame; and do not continue to aggravate baseness by hypocrisy. I know you, sir, I know you.

Hon. Why, won't you hear me? By all that's just I know not

Leon. Hear you, sir! to what purpose? I now sea

through all your low arts; your ever complying with every opinion; your never refusing any request; your friendship, as common as a prostitute's favours, and as fallacious; all these, sir, have long been contemptible to the world, and are now perfectly so to me.

me.

Hon. Ha! contemptible to the world!

That reaches

[Aside.

Leon. All the seeming sincerity of your professions, I now find, were only allurements to betray; and all your seeming regret for their consequences, only calculated to cover the cowardice of your heart. Draw, villain! Enter CROAKER, out of breath.

Cro. Where is the villain? Where is the incendiary? [Seizing the Postboy.] Hold him fast, the dog; he has the gallows in his face. Come, you dog, confess; confess all, and hang yourself.

Post. Zounds! master, what do you throttle me for? Cro. [beating him.] Dog, do you resist? do you resist? Post. Zounds! master, I'm not he; there's the man that we thought was the rogue, and turns out to be ane

of the company.

Cro. How!

Hon. Mr. Croaker, we have all been under a strange mistake here; I find there is nobody guilty; it was all an error; entirely an error of our own.

Cro. And I say, sir, that you're in an error; for there's guilt, and double guilt, a plot, a damned Jesuitical, pestilential plot, and I must have proof of it.

Hon. Do but hear me.

Cro. What! you intend to bring 'em off, I suppose; I'll hear nothing.

Hon. Madam, you seem at least calm enough to hear

reason.

Oliv. Excuse me.

Hon. Good Jarvis, let me then explain it to you. Jar. What signifies explanations when the thing is done?

Hon. Will nobody hear me? Was there ever such a set, so blinded by passion and prejudice! [To the Postboy.] My good friend, I believe you'll be surprised, when I assure you—

Post. Sure me nothing-I'm sure of nothing but a good beating.

Cro. Come then you, madam, if you ever hope for any favour or forgiveness, tell me sincerely all you know of this affair.

Oliv. Unhappily, sir, I'm but too much the cause of your suspicions: you see before you, sir, one that with false pretences has stept into your family to betray it: not your daughter

Cro. Not my daughter!

Oliv. Not your daughter-but a mean deceiver-who -support me, I cannot

Hon. Help! she's going, give her air.

Cro. Ay, ay, take the young woman to the air; I would not hurt a hair of her head, whose ever daughter she may be-not so bad as that neither.

[Exeunt all but Croaker. Cro. Yes, yes, all's out; I now see the whole affair: my son is either married, or going to be so, to this lady, whom he imposed upon me as his sister. Ay, certainly so; and yet I don't find it afflicts me so much as one might think. There's the advantage of fretting away our misfortunes beforehand, we never feel them when they come.

Enter Miss RICHLAND and Sir WILLIAM. Sir Wil. But how do you know, madam, that my nephew intends setting off from this place?

Miss Rich. My maid assured me he was come to this inn, and my own knowledge of his intending to leave the kingdom, suggested the rest. But what do I see, my guardian here before us! Who, my dear sir, could have expected meeting you here? to what accident do we owe this pleasure?

Cro. To a fool, I believe.

Miss Rich. But to what purpose did you come?

Cro. To play the fool.

Miss Rich. But with whom?

Cro. With greater fools than myself.

Miss Rich. Explain.

Cro. Why. Mr. Honeywood brought me here, to do nothing, now I am here; and my son is going to be married to I don't know who, that is here: so now you are as wise as I am.

Miss Rich. Married! to whom, sir?

Cro. To Olivia, my daughter as I took her to be; but who the devil she is, or whose daughter she is, I know no more than the man in the moon.

Sir Wil. Then, sir, I can inform you; and, though a stranger, yet you shall find me a friend to your family: it will be enough, at present, to assure you, that both in point of birth and fortune, the young lady is at least your son's equal. Being left by her father, Sir James Woodville

Cro. Sir James Woodville! what, of the West?

Sir Wil. Being left by him, I say, to the care of a mercenary wretch, whose only aim was to secure her for