HONEYWOOD. Whatever reason you may have for being out of your fenfes, I hope you'll allow that I'm not quite unreasonable for continuing in mine. JARVIS. You're the only man alive in your present fituation that could do fo-Every thing upon the waste. There's Mifs Richland and her fine fortune gone already, and upon the point of being given to your rival. HONEYWOOD. I'm no man's rival. JARVIS. Your uncle in Italy preparing to difinherit you; your own fortune almoft fpent; and nothing but preffing creditors, falfe friends, and a pack of drunken fervants that your kindness has made unfit for any other family. HONEYWOOD. Then they have the more occafion for being in mine. - JARVIS. Soh! What will you have done with him that I caught ftealing your plate in the pantry? In the fact; I caught him in the fact. HONEYWOOD. In the fact? If fo, I really think that we should pay him his wages, and turn him off. JARVIS. JARVIS. He fhall be turn'd off at Tyburn, the dog; we'll hang him, if it be only to frighten the reft of the family. HONEYWOOD. No, Jarvis: it's enough that we have loft what he has ftolen, let us not add to it the lofs of a fellow creature! JARVIS. Very fine; well, here was the footman juft now, to complain of the butler; he fays he does moft work, and ought to have most wages. HONEYWOOD. That's but juft; though perhaps here comes the butler to complain of the footman. JARVIS. Ay, its the way with them all, from the fcullion to the privy-coun fellor. If they have a bad mafter they keep quarrelling with him; if they have a good mafter, they keep quarrelling with one another. Enter BUTLER, drunk. BUTLER. Sir, I'll not ftay in the family with Jonathan, you must part with him, or part with me, that's the ex-ex-expofition of the matter, Sir. HONEYWOOD. Full and explicit enough. But what's his fault, good Philip? BUTLER. BUTLER. Sir, he's given to drinking, Sir, and I shall have my morals corrupted, by keeping fuch company. HONEYWOOD. Ha! ha! He has fuch a diverting way➡ O quite amufing, JARVIS, BUTLER. I find my wines a-going, Sir; and liquors don't go without mouths, Sir; I hate a drunkard, Sir. HONEYWOOD. Well, well, Philip, I'll hear you upon that ano, ther time, fo go to bed now. JARVIS. To bed! Let him go to the devil. BUTLER. Begging your honour's pardon, and begging your pardon, mafter Jarvis, I'll not go to bed, nor to the devil neither. I have enough to do to mind my cellar I forgot, your honour, Mr. Croaker is be low. I came on purpose to tell you. HONEYWOOD. Why didn't you fhew him up, blockhead? BUTLER. Shew him up, Sir! With all my heart, Sir. Up or down, all's one to me. JARVIS. [Exit. Ay, we have one or other of that family in this house from morning till night. He comes on the old old affair, I fuppofe. The match between his fon that's just returned from Paris, and Mifs Richland, the young lady he's guardian to. HONEYWOOD. Perhaps fo. Mr. Croaker, knowing my frieudhip for the young lady, has got it into his head that I can perfwade her to what I please. JARVIS. Ah! if you loved yourself but half as well as the loves you, we should foon fee a marriage that would fet all things to rights again. HONEYWOOOD. Love me! Sure, Jarvis, you dream. No, no; her intimacy with me never amounted to more than friendship-mere friendship. That he is the most lovely woman that ever warm'd the human heart with defire, I own. But never let me harbour a thought of making her unhappy, by a connection with one fo unworthy her merits as I am. No, Jarvis, it shall be my ftudy to ferve her, even in fpite of my wishes; and to fecure her happiness, though it destroys my own. JARVIS. Was ever the like! I want patience. HONEYWOOD. Befides, Jarvis, though I could obtain Mifs Richland's confent, do you think I could fucceed with her guardian, or Mrs. Croaker his wife; who, tho' both very fine in their way, are yet a little oppofite in their difpofitions you know. JARVIS. JARVIS. Oppofite enough, heaven knows; the very reverse of each other; fhe all laugh and no joke; he always complaining and never forrowful; a fretful poor foul that has a new distress for every hour in the four and twenty HONEYWOOD. Hush, hush, he's coming up, he'll hear you, JARVIS. One who's voice is a paffing bell HONEYWOOD. Well, well, go, do, JARVIS. A raven that bodes nothing but mifchief; a coffin and cross bones; a bundle of rue; a fprig of deadly night shade; a-Honeywood stopping his mouth, at laft pushes him off.) [Exit Jarvis. HONEYWOOD. I must own my old monitor is not entirely wrong. There is fomething in my friend Croaker's converfation that quite depreffes me. His very mirth is an antidote to all gaiety, and his appearance has a ftronger effect on my fpirits than an undertaker's fhop.-Mr. Croaker, this is fuch a fatisfaction Enter CROAKER. CROAKER. A pleasant morning to Mr. Honeywood, and many of them. How is this! you look moft fhock |