SCENE VII.--_Enter_ JACK-PUDDING, Drummer, Mob.

_Jack-P_. This is to give notice to all gentlemen, ladies, and others, that at the Theatre Royal in Drury-lane, this evening, will be performed the whole puppet-show called the Pleasures of the Town; in which will be shewn the whole court of nonsense, with abundance of singing, dancing, and several other entertainments: also the comical and diverting humours of Some-body and No-body; Punch and his wife Joan to be performed by figures, some of them six foot high. G.o.d save the King.

[_Drum beats_.

SCENE VIII.--WITMORE _with a paper, meeting_ LUCKLESS.

_Wit_. Oh! Luckless, I am overjoyed to meet you; here, take this paper, and you will be discouraged from writing, I warrant you.

_Luck_. What is it?--Oh! one of my play-bills.

_Wit_. One of thy play-bills!

_Luck_. Even so--I have taken the advice you gave me this morning.

_Wit_. Explain.

_Luck_. Why, I had some time since given this performance of mine to be rehea.r.s.ed, and the actors were all perfect in their parts; but we happened to differ about some particulars, and I had a design to have given it over; 'till having my play refused by Marplay, I sent for the managers of the other house in a pa.s.sion, joined issue with them, and this very evening it is to be acted.

_Wit_. Well, I wish you success.

_Luck_. Where are you going?

_Wit_. Anywhere but to hear you d.a.m.ned, which I must, was I to go to your puppet-show.

_Luck_. Indulge me in this trial; and I a.s.sure thee, if it be successless, it shall be the last.

_Wit_. On that condition I will; but should the torrent run against you, I shall be a fashionable friend and hiss with the rest.

_Luck_. No, a man who could do so unfashionable and so generous a thing as Mr Witmore did this morning----

_Wit_. Then I hope you will return it, by never mentioning it to me more. I will now to the pit.

_Luck_. And I behind the scenes.

SCENE IX.--LUCKLESS, HARRIOT.

_Luck_. Dear Harriot!

_Har_. I was going to the playhouse to look after you--I am frightened out of my wits--I have left my mother at home with the strangest sort of man, who is inquiring after you: he has raised a mob before the door by the oddity of his appearance; his dress is like nothing I ever saw, and he talks of kings, and Bantam, and the strangest stuff.

_Luck_. What the devil can he be?

_Har_. One of your old acquaintance, I suppose, in disguise--one of his majesty's officers with his commission in his pocket, I warrant him.

_Luck_. Well, but have you your part perfect?

_Har_. I had, unless this fellow hath frightened it out of my head again; but I am afraid I shall play it wretchedly.

_Luck_. Why so?

_Har_. I shall never have a.s.surance enough to go through with it, especially if they should hiss me.

_Luck_. Oh! your mask will keep you in countenance, and as for hissing, you need not fear it. The audience are generally so favourable to young beginners: but hist, here is your mother and she has seen us. Adieu, my dear, make what haste you can to the playhouse.

[_Exit_.

SCENE X.--HARRIOT, MONEYWOOD.

_Har_. I wish I could avoid her, for I suppose we shall have an alarum.

_Money_. So, so, very fine: always together, always caterwauling. How like a hangdog he stole off; and it's well for him he did, for I should have rung such a peal in his ears.--There's a friend of his at my house would be very glad of his company, and I wish it was in my power to bring them together.

_Har_. You would not surely be so barbarous.

_Money_. Barbarous! ugh! You whining, puling fool! Hussey, you have not a drop of my blood in you. What, you are in love, I suppose?

_Har_. If I was, madam, it would be no crime,

_Money_. Yes, madam, but it would, and a folly too. No woman of sense was ever in love with anything but a man's pocket. What, I suppose he has filled your head with a pack of romantick stuff of streams and dreams, and charms and arms. I know this is the stuff they all run on with, and so run into our debts, and run away with our daughters. Come, confess; are not you two to live in a wilderness together on love? Ah! thou fool! thou wilt find he will pay thee in love just as he has paid me in money. If thou wert resolved to go a-begging, why did you not follow the camp? There, indeed, you might have carried a knapsack; but here you will have no knapsack to carry. There, indeed, you might have had a chance of burying half a score husbands in a campaign; whereas a poet is a long-lived animal; you have but one chance of burying him, and that is, starving him.

_Har_. Well, madam, and I would sooner starve with the man I love than ride in a coach and six with him I hate: and, as for his pa.s.sion, you will not make me suspect that, for he hath given me such proofs on't.

_Money_. Proofs! I shall die. Has he given you proofs of love?

_Har_. All that any modest woman can require.

_Money_. If he has given you all a modest woman can require, I am afraid he has given you more than a modest woman should take: because he has been so good a lodger, I suppose I shall have some more of the family to keep. It is probable I shall live to see half a dozen grandsons of mine in Grub-street.

SCENE XI.--MONEYWOOD, HARRIOT, JACK.

_Jack_. Oh, madam! the man whom you took for a bailiff is certainly some great man; he has a vast many jewels and other fine things about him; he offered me twenty guineas to shew him my master, and has given away so much money among the chairmen, that some folks believe he intends to stand member of parliament for Westminster.

_Money_. Nay, then, I am sure he is worth inquiring into. So, d'ye hear, sirrah, make as much haste as you can before me, and desire him to part with no more money till I come.