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ther opportunity-good morning-I'll just take a peep
Tan. Zounds! my uncle !
Tan. Yes, sir, the real black hyson--sweet, pretty article-defies the trade to sell more cheaperer than us do. Ma'am [Bowing to Julia, and peeping at Caustic. 1-oh! he knows me.
Cau. 'Tis he, by all that's furious !
Fau. Not quite so familiar, if you please, sir. Well recollected I want
Cau. And I want-patience.
Tan. Ah! is it you? how do you do, uncle ?-must brazen it out.
[Aside. Cau. 'Sdeath, sir! what's that? [Pointing to his apron.] and what the devil are you at now?
Tan. Trade, commerce, uncle : soul of Sir Thomas Gresham--thou who, in the countiag-house of the gods, sittest
Cau. Stop, stop, I say! Have you forgot the woolsack? think of the woolsack !
Tan. I do-wool is a staple commodity. Commerce,
Cau. I say, law.
Tan. The theory of commerce is abstruse, and very little understood.
Cau. Why, so is law.
Fau. (c.) Sir, as father to this lady, I must demand an explanation of such extraordinary conduct.
Tan. With all my heart. Sir, your lovely daughter came to Allspice's shop, when-- I don't recollect howbut, somehow or other, I had got this apron round me she took me for the shopman; and for the pleasure of beholding her, I became a porter, and, to continue that
happiness, would become (Seeing MʻQuery.] an attorney. This is the fact: I can't tell a lie for the soul of me.
M'Que. (L.) Can't you? then I would recommend you not to become an attorney.
Tan. (R. c.) Trade's the thing, uncle-understand it all; I'll snip oif a yard of riband with e'er a six-foot haberdasher in town, return the drawer to its place with a smack-roll up change in a bit of paper-smirk-present it with the counter-bow; an't I perfect, ma'am ?
[Faulkner and Julia smile. Cau. Mr. Tangent. Fau. Ah! Jul. My father! Fau. Tangent! damnation !
Cau. I cast you off, sir, for ever! 'Sdeath! were you my own child, your undutiful conduct would be patural aud excusable. But you've no right to make me miserable--- I'm not your father, and I insist
Fau. And I insist that my house may not be made the scene of your buffoonery.
Tan. Upon my soul, sir, I
Fau. And that you take leave of it, and that lady, for ever. Jul. Oh sir! surely
[Retires up. Fau. [Frowningly.) Girl!
Cau. [To Tangent.] There I'm glad on't. And now, sir, you may think of the woolsack, sir; or you may snip ribands, sir-or wrap up halfpence in whitey-brown pa. per, sir; I have done with you, sir-and there's the counter-bow for you, sir. Captain Faulkner, good morning
[Exit, R. Fau. Confusion !
Tan. Captain Faulkner! then I may hear of my friend. Sir, though your conduct to me has been harsh–I flatter myself, unmeritedly so-yet my anxiety to hear of a lost friend induces me to solicit what I should otherwise despise.
Fau. Be brief, sir.
Tan. Charles Richmond-Charles Richmond, siris he no more?
Fan. (c.) He fell by my side.
Tan. Poor Charles ! I remember, when we were at college, we agreed that whoever died bachelor should make the survivor his heir; but he was too generous to be rich. Did he, sir, leave any money?
Fau. [With trepidation.) Not-not-that I know of -agony ! M'Que. No, not that he knows of. I'll bring you off. Fau, Be dumb !
Tan. No, he must have died poor; for villany itself could not wrong so noble a fellow.
Fau. Fiends ! tortures !
M'Que. Died poor, certainly? Do you suppose, now, that if he had given any money to Mr.
Fau. Silence, dog!
[Aside. Fau. Where are you going? M'Que. With Mr. Tangent.
Fuu. I'll not trust you. Dare not for your life speak to him.
M.Que. I suppose I may go home. Fau. This way, then. Remember, I am no triller. This way, I say.
[Exit with MʻQuery, L. Tan. Madam, am I to conclude so trivial a levity could occasion Captain Faulkner's behaviour, or
Jul. (Advances.] Sir, I am wholly ignorant. [Sighs.] I never saw my father so before.
Tan. And may I hope, loveliest of women, that the sentiments of that tender bosom
Jul. Sir, the sentiment that governs here is implicit obedience to a father's will. He is returning Pray leave me.
Tan. May I not hope, Miss Faulkner, that-
[Exit, R. D. Jul. How eccentric, yet how interesting ! what can my father mean?
Re-enier FAULKNER, with caution. Fau. (c.) Is he gone? Thank heaven! Jul. (R. C.) Pray, sir, has Mr. TangentFau, Do you combine to torture?
Jul. [Weeps.] Oh, my father! kill me, but do not frown on me.
Fau. Kill thee, Julia !--Oh, I'm to blame.-But my mind is in agony.
Jul. May I not share it ? May I not alleviate it?
Fan. Thy father, Julia, is a beggar.
Fau. Worse-be has contracted debts he cannot discharge, and must, like a rascal, fly.
Jul. Bear up, my heart.
Fau, Nay, worse-thy father is—but why should I agonize her more!
Jul. Oh! don't despair-we shall do very well. I can work, indeed I can-I am a strong girl. [Faints.
Fan. [Cutches her in his arms.) Revive, my child ?-I sheltered thee from misery while it was possible.
Jul. Is what your ancestors left you lost, all lost ?
Fuu. Yes, Julia, all-[Aside.] for they left me honour.--But we must fly.
Jul. Whither, my father ?
Jul. Oh, my father, do not leave me I dread being alone.
Fau. I will but ruminate awhile, then come to thee.
Fau. Yes, my child :-go in. [Exit Julia, L.) Well, I lied it stoutly-the veriest rascal that eats the bread of perjury could not have lied it with more unblushing boldness. Where shall I fly? The poor honest man, e'en in this knavish world, has some few friends ; the rich villain more: but the poor rascal-ha! first a thief and then a liar-what follows ? some devil whispers, a self-murderer. But oh! my child! can I leave my girl to poverty, to scorn, to dishonour --No, no! we part not. What remains ?-To go to Tangent-crawl in the dust, and be spurn'd by him! rot and damn first!Despair, then, is only left : for the world's palliations, as degrees of guilt--the law of necessity will not give comfort here. No, to the truly proud the first step from honour is perdition.
Enter JULIA, L. Jul. (L. C.) My father, you said you'd come to me don't be angry. Oh, do you smile on me? then Julia cannot be unhappy. (Embraces Faulkner.] You frown'd just now-'twas the first time: indeed it cut my heart. Come, sir, be cheerful ; for poverty cannot chill the conscious glow of virtue, aor dim the celestial radiance of honour. Fuu. Oh!
END OP AOT II.
SCENE I.-A Room in M'Query's House.
Enter M'Query, R., and Servant, L.
[Exit Servant, L. Re-enter Servant with LADY SORREL. M'Que. Your most obsequious, my lady. How am I to have the honour of serving you? Is it your will I'm tu make ?
Lady S. (c.) My will, sir ?
M'Que. Oh, what a blunder! Because ladies often make their wills, when they should be making their marriage articles.
Lady S. (L.) You gentlemen of the long robe flatter.
M'Que. You flatter, my lady! I of the long robe! No, I'm only, as I may say, a mere spencer of the law. Oh, how I love female clients! They are so easily pleased, [Aside.] and so easily imposed on.
Lady S. You are too polite. But that is the characteristic of Ireland I've been there : and had I remained, it is a country I should have been trsnsported with.
MʻQue. [Aside.) And had I remained there, it is a country I should have been transported from.
Lady S. Mr. Tangent, who possesses many amiable qualities--in my approbation of men, sir, I always use discernment.
MʻQue. Oh, you do-[Aside.] for you always approve of yourg ones.
Lady S. He has fallen in love with a Miss Faulkner, whose father is, I hear, poor and proud. Pray, sir, do you know any thing about him?
M'Que. A little : and one thing I know is, that he owes me fifty pounds, and has not a shilling to pay me.