_Luck_. I have a vast deal of silver, which he brought me, within; will you do me the favour of taking it in silver? that will be of use to you in the shop too.

_Money_. Anything to oblige you, sir.

_Luck_. Jack, bring out the great bag, number one. Please to tell the money, madam, on that table.

_Money_. It's easily told: heaven knows there's not so much on't.

_Jack_. Sir, the bag is so heavy, I cannot bring it in.

_Luck_. Why, then, come and help to thrust a heavier bag out.

_Money_. What do you mean?

_Luck_. Only to pay you in my bed-chamber.

_Money_. Villain, dog, I'll swear a robbery, and have you hanged: rogues, villains!

_Luck_. Be as noisy as you please--[_Shuts the door_.] Jack, call a coach; and, d' ye hear? get up behind it and attend me.

ACT II.

SCENE I.--_The Playhouse_.--LUCKLESS, MARPLAY, senior, MARPLAY, junior.

_Luck_. [_Reads_.]

"Then hence my sorrow, hence my ev'ry fear;
No matter where, so we are bless'd together.
With thee, the barren rocks, where not one step
Of human race lies printed in the snow,
Look lovely as the smiling infant spring."

_Mar. sen_. Augh! will you please to read that again, sir?

_Luck_. "Then hence my sorrow, hence my ev'ry fear."

_Mar. sen_. "Then hence my sorrow."--Horror is a much better word.--And then in the second line--"No matter where, so we are bless'd together."--Undoubtedly, it should be, "No matter where, so somewhere we're together." Where is the question, somewhere is the answer.--Read on, sir.

_Luck_. "With thee,----"

_Mar. sen_. No, no, I could alter those lines to a much better idea.

"With thee, the barren blocks, where not a bit
Of human face is painted on the bark,
Look green as Covent-garden in the spring."

_Luck_. Green as Covent-garden!

_Mar. jun_. Yes, yes; Covent-garden market, where they sell greens.

_Luck_. Monstrous!

_Mar. sen_. Pray, sir, read on.

_Luck_.

"LEANDRA: oh, my Harmonio, I could hear thee still;
The nightingale to thee sings out of tune,
While on thy faithful breast my head reclines,
The downy pillow's hard; while from thy lips
I drink delicious draughts of nectar down,
Falernian wines seem bitter to my taste."

_Mar. jun_. Here's meat, drink, singing, and lodging, egad.

_Luck_. He answers.

_Mar. jun_. But, sir----

_Luck_.

"Oh, let me pull thee, press thee to my heart,
Thou rising spring of everlasting sweets!
Take notice, Fortune, I forgive thee all!
Thou'st made Leandra mine. Thou flood of joy
Mix with my soul, and rush thro' ev'ry vein."

_Mar. sen_. Those two last lines again if you please.

_Luck_. "Thou'st made," &c.

_Mar. jun_.

"----Thou flood of joy,
Mix with my soul and rush thro' ev'ry vein."

Those are two excellent lines indeed: I never writ better myself: but, Sar----

_Luck_.

"Leandra's mine, go bid the tongue of fate
Pronounce another word of bliss like that;
Search thro' the eastern mines and golden shores,
Where lavish Nature pours forth all her stores;
For to my lot could all her treasures fall,
I would not change Leandra for them all."

There ends act the first, and such an act as, I believe, never was on this stage yet.

_Mar. jun_. Nor never will, I hope.

_Mar. sen_. Pray, sir, let me look at one thing. "Falernian wines seem bitter to my taste."