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Enter JONATHAN OLDSKIRT, R. old. I've been from the top of the house to the bottom; but I sha'n't be bamboozled.
Tor. (L. c.) Hey-day!
Old. Mr. Torrent, you know what business brought me here.
Tor. To be sure, I do.
Old. (R. C.) Then I'm a reputable man, and insist upon joining the party.
Tor. Joining the party !-When I ask'd you to dine at my table, didn't you tell me you would take your victuals in the housekeeper's room?
Old. That's what I wanted ; but, instead of that, this outlandish fellow [Shaking his cane at Solomon.) has kept me capering about the park, after a parcel of live venison,
Sol. (c.) 'Twas my master's ordonnance, and I acted according to riggles.
Tor. Hold your tongue !-If you wish to go to dinner, go to dinner; and when you like : nobody binders you.
Old. Damn the dinner !--That isn't my object.
Sol. Tezzy voo, according to the French ; for, if you are saucy to my master, I shall kick you out, agreeable to the English.
Tor. Leave the room. [Exit Solomon Gundy, R. Old. Don't tell me; I'll raise the whole.county, but I'll know the rights on't.
Tor. Heartly has sent me a maniac. Are'nt you wel. come to all the house affords ?- What more do you want?
Old. Want ?~I'll have a beautiful young woman.
Tor. I'll tell you what, my friend : for a man, modest even to shyness, you are as brazen a dog as ever threw up a clump.
Old. I've clump'd here up to my neck in clay ; and it's well I did, or I might have been cheated out of my charge.
Tor. I never knew such assurance How dare you talk to me of being cheated of a charge, when you have no title yet to demand one!
old. We shall see that.-I'll swear to our parting this morning in the lane, in the direct road to your house.
Tor. 'Tis my opinion that you'll swear to any thing :
but, so far from parting with you in a lane, curse me if I ever saw your extraordinary face any where but in this parlour!
Old. Who says you did ?
Tor. You, this minute :-But here comes a gentleman who will settle matters, and rid my house of you, directly.
Old. With all my heart. Let him clear up all. I've no objection to meeting a gentleman, for my part, when he behaves as such.
Enter Heartly, L. Tor. (c.) So, Mr. Heartly, here's a mighty modest person, according to your notion of things, to whom I must beg you to talk a little, if you please.
Hea. (L.) [Bowing to Oldskirt.] Sir, your most obedient.
Old. (R.) [Returning the bow vulgarly.] Sir, yours.
Tor. And now, let me tell you, [To Heartly.] if you had search'd all England for a shy and a cheap man, you could'nt have pick'd out a more impudent or extortionate fellow.
Old. I don't value what you say of me of a button. Come to the point.
Hea. I'm thunderstruck !-Who can this be ?
Tor. Who should it be-but your precious recommendation, the surveyor?
Hea. You are' mistaken-I never saw this person before.
Old. You know that as well as he. But that fetch won't pass.-I'll have what I came for.
Tor. And what the devil did you come for ?
Old. For one who is as dear to me as the eyes in my head. Didn't I tell you I came to better her prospeets, now she had got a place ?--And did'nt you cajole me by saying you'd help me to mend 'em? But old Jonathan oldskirt had rather see all bis remnants on fire than re. turn to the back of St. Clement's before he knows Miss Fanny Delamere is safe.
Bar. (Comes forward. ] How!-Are you the person she mentions in her letter, who has shown her so much care and kindness ?
Old. What's that to you?-I know none of you ; but let her be forthcoming.
Bar. [Warmly.] She shall be forthcoming.
Tor. Oldskirt !--Zounds! then you are the remnantseller who settled every thing for the place with my agent in London. Old. Pooh! pooh !-You knew that all along.
Bar. 'Tis fit that I, as her father, Mr. Torrent, should know every thing.
ou. Her father!-What! Will she find a father, after all ?—Lord, Lord! I-But first, let her father find her. Have the house searched directly.
Tor. Why, what is it you mean to insinuate ?
Old. I'll take my oath to leaving her a few hours ago, not half-a-mile off, in her way to the house; and, when I got here myself, you said you expected me, because she had just mention'd to you I was coming.
Bar. You hear that, sir.
Old. Don't believe him.--Fie upon you ! you are no better than a kidnapper.
Tor. Dam’me, if I- [Attempts to drive out Oldskirt. Hea. (Interposing.] Softly-Here must be some mistake. Mr. Barford, if you have that claim to inquiry to which the tender name you have just mention'd gives you a title, we had better leave you to investigate the matter coolly with my friend. Come, Mr. Oldskirt, to avoid clamour, suppose you and I withdraw to another apartment. Old. [To Barford.] Do you say I should ? Bar. I think it would be better.
Old. Well, Il-But, don't be bamboozl'd-We're in bad hands.
Hea. Come, come.
Old. (Going.] Curse me, though, if I quit the premises, till I see her! [Exeunt Heartly and Oldskirt, R., Torrent aud Bar.
SCENE II.-A substantial House on a Heuth, L., Barns
and Outhouses adjoining.–A slight ruiling in front of ihe house, and a wicket, to which u bell is attached. A cart under a shed, and at the end af it is inscribed “ Barabbas Hogmore-- Taxed Cart.”—The sea at a distance. --Bright moonlight.
Enter Henry, R. J. E. Hen. (R.) After a painful walk from the beach, here is a house at last. I need not doubt a reception, for I am on British ground. The mastiff barking, as a nocturnal terror, at an Englishman's gate, gives sure token of comfort to the wanderer, in search of a babitation.
[Rings at the wicket. Hog. [Looks out at one-pair-of-stairs window.]— Who's that?
Hen. A stranger, in quest of a night's lodging.
(Going to shut the window. Hen. Stay a moment. I do not want to hire a night's lodging.--I entreat one.
Hog. That's a genteel way of begging, I suppose. Where do you come from?
Hen. The coast of France.
Hog. Oho! I understand. If you have any run brandy, I should like a keg, snug and reasonable. I'll come down to you.
Hen. You mistake me. I was six months ago impressed into the king's service; - I was captur'd by the enemy ;-have escap'd from a French prison ;-and, after many hardships at sea, was put on shore, in an open boat, an hour since, on this coast.
Hog. That may be all gammon. Coast of France, indeed ! 'Tis a mighty extraordinary story. Are you an Englishman?
Hen. I am a British subject, and want shelter.
Hen. Then your want is more extraordinary, for an Englishman, than mine.
Hog. What's that?
Hog. Look ye, my man: I'm a Yorkshire freeholder ; my youung ones are just going to bed, and I am obligated to keep 'em safe ; if you hover outside of my warm dwelling, because you are in want of house and
home, I'll fire at you, as every tender master of a family is in duty bound.
[Shuts the window. Hen. (Comes forward, c.] Brute! You form, I hope, a strong exception to the rule of that country's generosity in which you are born. His young ones !- What a litter of cubs must spring from such a bruin! I am very faint, but I will stagger on.
from a window of the ground floor, and calls to Henry.
Hen. (Goes to the wicket, L.) Why not, my little fellow ?
Boy. Because I'm lock'd in, to go to bed. I've all this closet to myself; so, if you creep in at window, you shall sleep in my room,
if you like,
Boy. But stay, I had better come out; for Tiger's un. chain'd.—He'll bite you, if he don't see me with you; he won't bite you when he does, for I ride upon him. I'm, coming.
Hen. No, no; you'll fall and hurt yourself.
Boy. No, I shan't. I clamber out of this window very often, and in again, too, when brother John plays with me at hide-and-seek.
Hen. Take care.
Boy. Stop, though--mother puts her cold ham and cordial-bottle in my cupboard ; and, I dare say, you are very dry and hungry.
[Goes back. Hen. [Comes forward, c.] Infantine simplicity! how powerful is thy appeal to nature ! How do thy tones and gestures awaken in us that softness which age, with all its acquired austerity (sour vintage of life), cannot resist. [Boy, having come from the window, advances to Henry,
with bottle and meut in a basket. Boy. (L. C.) Have you got a knife in your pocket? Hen. Yes, my sweet fellow. Boy. Then cut the ham very smooth, and father won't miss it; else, if he finds me out to-morrow morning, he'll larrup me.
Hen. Can he ever have the heart to beat you?
Boy. Never very hard when mother's by; for then he'd get it himself. Come, why don't you eat? And then we'll go to bed.