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Dorn. Will you begone?

Harry.

Watch-houses-pickpockets-cut-throats!

Sulky. Come, come, sir

[Shutting down the window.

Milf. We shall not get in.

Harry. Pshaw! how little do you know of my father! The door will open in less than fifteen seconds. Milf. Done, for a hundred!

Harry. Done, done! [They take out their watches, and the door opens.] I knew you were had;-double or quits, we find the cloth laid, and supper on the table.

Milf. No, it won't do.

[Exeunt into the house.

SCENE III.

DORNTON'S House.

Enter HARRY DORNTON, MILFORD, and FOOTMAN!

Foot. My old master is in a bitter passion, sir.
Harry. I know it.

Foot. He is gone down to turn the servant out of doors that let you in.

Hurry. Is he? Then go you and let your fellowservant in again.

Foot. I dare not, sir.

Harry. Then I must.

[Exit.

Foot. He enquired who was with my young master.

Milf. Well!

Foot. And when he heard it was you, sir, he was ten times more furious.

Enter HARRY DORNTON.

[Exit.

Harry. All's well that ends we'll-Th's has been a cursed losing voyage, Milford!

B

Milf. I am a hundred and fifty in.

Harry. And I, ten thousand out!

Milf. I believe I had better avoid your father for the present.

Harry. I think

you had. Dad considers you as my tempter; the cause of my ruin.

Milf. And I being in his debt, he conceives he may treat me without ceremony.

Harry. Nay, damn it, Jack, do him justice! It is not the money you had of him, but the ill advice he imputes to you, that galls him.

Milf. I hear he threatens to arrest me.

Harry. Yes! he has threatened to strike my name out of the firm, and disinherit me, a thousand times ! Milf. O, but he has been very serious in menacing

me.

Harry. And me too.

Milf. You'll be at the tennis-court to-morrow?
Harry. No.

Milf. What, not to see the grand match?
Harry. No.

Milf. O yes, you will,

Harry. No-I am determined.

Milf. Yes, over night-you'll waver in the morning. Harry. No-It is high time, Jack, to grow prudent. Milf. Ha, ha, ha! My plan is formed: I'll soon be out of debt.

Harry. How will you get the money?
Milf. By calculation.

Harry, Ha, ha, ha!

Milf. I am resolved on it. How many men of rank and honour, having lost their fortunes, have doubly recovered them!

Harry. And very honourably!

Milf. Who doubts it?

Harry. Ha, ha, ha! Nobody! nobody!

Milf. But, pray, Harry, what is it you find so attractive in my late father's amorous relict?

Harry. Ha, ha, ha! What, the Widow Warren? Milf. She seems to think, and even reports, you are to marry!

Harry. Marry her! A coquette of forty, who ridiculously apes all the airs of a girl! Fantastic, selfish, and a fool! And marry? Disgusting idea!Thou wert philosophising, as we drove, on the condition of a post-horse

Milf. Well!

Harry. I would rather be a post-horse, nay, the rascal that drives a post-horse, than the base thing thou hast imagined!

Milf. Then why are you so often there?
Harry. Because I can't keep away.

Milf. What, is it her daughter Sophia ?
Harry. Lovely, bewitching innocent!
Milf. The poor young thing is fond of you?
Harry. I should be half mad, if I thought she was
not; yet am obliged to half hope she is not.
Milf. Why?

Harry. What a question!--Am I not a profligate, and in all probability ruined?-Not even my father can overlook this last affair!-No!-Heigho!

Milf. The loss of my father's will, and the mystery made of its contents, by those who witnessed it, are strange circumstances!

Harry. In which the Widow triumphs. And, you being a bastard, and left by law to starve, she willingly pays obedience to laws so wise.

Milf. She refuses even to pay my debts.

Harry. And the worthy alderman, your father, being overtaken by death in the south of France, carefully makes a will, and then as carefully hides it where it is not to be found; or commits it to the custody of some mercenary knąve, who has made his market of it to the Widow- So! here comes the supposed executor of this supposed will.

Enter MR SULKY.

do?

My dear Mr Sulky, how do you

Sulky. Very ill.

Harry. Indeed?--I am very sorry! What's your disorder?

Sulky. You.

Harry. Ha, ha, ha!

Sulky. Ruin-bankruptcy-infamy!
Harry. The old story!

Sulky. To a new tune.

Harry. Ha, ha, ha!

Sulky. You are

Harry. What, my good cynic?
Sulky. A fashionable gentleman-
Harry, I know it.

Sulky. And fashionably ruined.
Harry. No-I have a father.
Sulky. Who is ruined likewise.-

Harry. Ha, ha, ha! Is the Bank of England ruined? Sulky. I say ruined.-Nothing less than a miracle can save the house. The purse of Fortunatus could not supply you.

Harry. No, it held nothing but guineas. Notes, bills, paper for me!

Sulky. Such effrontery is insufferable. For these five years, sir, you have been driving to ruin more furiously than

Harry. An ambassador's coach on a birth-night→→ I saw you were stammering for a simile. Sulky. Sir

Harry. Youth mounts the box, seizes the reins, and jehus headlong on in the dark; Passion and Prodigality blaze in the front, bewilder the coachman, and dazzle and blind the passengers; Wisdom, Prudence, and Virtue are overset and maimed or murdered; and at last Repentance, like the footman's flambeau, lagging behind, lights us to dangers when they are past all remedy.

Sulky. Your name is struck off the firm. I was the adviser.

Harry. You were very kind, Mr Sulky.
Sulky. Your father is at last determined.
Harry. Ha, ha, ha! Do you think so?

Sulky. You'll find so!-And what brought you here, sir? [To MILFORD.

Milf. A chaise and four.

Sulky. It might have carried you to a safer place. When do you mean to pay your debts?

Milf. When my father's executor prevails on the Widow Warren to do me justice.

Sulky. And which way am I to prevail?

Milf. And which way am I to pay my debts? Sulky. You might have more modesty, than insolently to come and brave one of your principal creditors, after having ruined his son by your evil counsel.

Harry. Ha, ha, ha! Don't believe a word on't, my good grumbler ;-I ruined myself: I wanted no counsellor.

Milf. My father died immensely rich; and, though I am what the law calls illegitimate, I ought not to

starve.

Sulky. You have had five thousand pounds, and are five more in debt.

Milf. Yes, thanks to those who trust boys with thousands.

Sulky. You would do the same now, that you think yourself a man.

Milf. [Firmly Indeed I would not.

Sulky. Had you been watching the Widow at home, instead of galloping after a knot of gamblers and pickpockets, you might, perhaps, have done yourself more service.

Milf. Which way, sir?

Sulky. The will of your late father is found.
Milf. Found!

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