_Sir Simon._ He----upon my soul I'm asham'd to tell you.

_Shuff._ Don't be asham'd; we never blush at any thing, in the New School.

_Sir Simon._ d.a.m.n me, my dear Tom, if he isn't a brazier!

_Shuff._ The devil!

_Sir Simon._ A dealer in kitchen candlesticks, coal skuttles, coppers, and cauldrons.

_Shuff._ And is the girl pretty?

_Sir Simon._ So they tell me;--a plump little devil, as round as a tea kettle.

_Shuff._ I'll be after the brazier's daughter, to-morrow.

_Sir Simon._ But you have weight with him. Talk to him, my dear Tom--reason with him; try your power, Tom, do!

_Shuff._ I don't much like plotting with the father against the son--that's reversing the New School, Baronet.

_Sir Simon._ But it will serve Frank: it will serve me, who wish to serve you. And to prove that I do wish it, I have been keeping something in embryo for you, my dear Tom Shuffleton, against your arrival.

_Shuff._ For me?

_Sir Simon._ When you were last leaving us, if you recollect, you mention'd, in a kind of a way, a--a sort of an intention of a loan, of an odd five hundred pounds.

_Shuff._ Did I? I believe I might.--When I intend to raise money, I always give my friends the preference.

_Sir Simon._ I told you I was out of cash then, I remember.

_Shuff._ Yes: that's just what I told you, I remember.

_Sir Simon._ I have the sum floating by me, now, and much at your service. [_Presenting it._

_Shuff._ Why, as it's lying idle, Baronet, I--I--don't much care if I employ it. [_Taking it._

_Sir Simon._ Use your interest with Frank, now.

_Shuff._ Rely on me.--Shall I give you my note?

_Sir Simon._ No, my dear Tom, that's an unnecessary trouble.

_Shuff._ Why that's true--with one who knows me so well as you.

_Sir Simon._ Your verbal promise to pay, is quite as good.

_Shuff._ I'll see if Frank's stirring. [_Going._

_Sir Simon._ And I must talk to my steward. [_Going._

_Shuff._ Baronet!

_Sir Simon._ [_Returning._] Eh?

_Shuff._ Pray, do you employ the phrase, "verbal promise to pay,"

according to the reading of old dictionaries, or as it's the fashion to use it at present.

_Sir Simon._ Oh, d.a.m.n it, chuse your own reading, and I'm content.

[_Exeunt severally._

SCENE II.

_A Dressing Room._

_FRANK ROCHDALE writing; WILLIAMS attending._

_Frank._ [_Throwing down the Pen._] It don't signify--I cannot write. I blot, and tear; and tear, and blot; and----. Come here, Williams. Do let me hear you, once more. Why the devil don't you come here?

_Williams._ I am here, sir.

_Frank._ Well, well; my good fellow, tell me. You found means to deliver her the letter yesterday?

_Williams._ Yes, sir.

_Frank._ And, she read it----and----did you say, she--she was very much affected, when she read it?

_Williams._ I told you last night, sir;--she look'd quite death struck, as I may say.

_Frank._ [_Much affected._] Did----did she weep, Williams?

_Williams._ No, sir; but I did afterwards--I don't know what ail'd me; but, when I got out of the house, into the street, I'll be hang'd if I did'nt cry like a child.

_Frank._ You are an honest fellow, Williams. [_A Knock at the Door of the Room._] See who is at the door. [_WILLIAMS opens the Door._

_Enter JOHN._

_Williams._ Well, what's the matter?

_John._ There's a man in the porter's lodge, says he won't go away without speaking to Mr. Francis.

_Frank._ See who it is, Williams. Send him to me, if necessary; but don't let me be teased, without occasion.

_Williams._ I'll take care, sir. [_Exeunt WILLIAMS and JOHN._

_Frank._ Must I marry this woman, whom my father has chosen for me; whom I expect here to-morrow? And must I, then, be told 'tis criminal to love my poor, deserted Mary, because our hearts are illicitly attach'd? Illicit for the heart? fine phraseology! Nature disowns the restriction; I cannot smother her dictates with the polity of governments, and fall in, or out of love, as the law directs.

_Enter DENNIS BRULGRUDDERY._