_Bell._ Very well, Sir, and very genteel.

_Skin._ Now shew the Ladies up, Lucy. I protest this dressing hath fatigued me, auh! auh! auh! (_coughing_)

_Lucy._ (_To Bellair as she goes out_) I have hinted something to Harriet which I believe will break off the Match infallibly.

(_Exit_)

_Skin._ Nephew, notwithstanding, auh!--This Marriage, I shall make a handsome Provision for you.

_Bell._ Sir, your Health and Happiness are my chiefest Blessings.

(_Enter Lady_ LOVEWEALTH, HARRIET _and_ LUCY)

_Lad._ Sir Isaac Skinflint, I am glad to see you up and dressed this morning. We had a report in our Neighbourhood that you died last Night.

_Skin._ Ay, Madam, Envious Wretches who expect Legacies--and who wish me in my Grave--spread it abroad--'tis true I was a little out of order last Night, but I'm mighty well today. Auh! Auh! Extremely well.

Auh! Auh! Lucy, give me a little of that Hartshorn.

_Bell._ Upon my word, Sir, I never saw you look better. Pray young Lady, what do you think?

_Har._ Indeed, Sir, I think the Gentleman looks extremely gay and healthy.

_Skin._ I should be very ill indeed, Madam, if such powerful Eyes as yours could not give me new Life. (_Bowing very low_)

_Har._ O Sir, your Servant. (_Curtsying very low_)

_Lad._ Very gallant indeed, Sir.

_Skin._ Yes, Madam, you will be a Medea's Kettle to me from [whence] I shall receive new Vigour. Your Charms will be a vivifying Nostrum to the morbific parts, which Infirmity and Age have laid hold of. You will be an Inlap to my Heart--and my Marriage will be an infallible Specific which I shall take as my last Remedy.--Give me a little of that Cordial.

_Har._ Sir, whatever commands my Lady thinks proper to lay on me, I shall think it my Duty to give them an implicit Obedience. (_She curtsies all the while. Skin. bows_)

_Lad._ You see, Sir Isaac, my Daughter is entirely directed by my Will; so if you are ready to fulfill the Agreement, that is to settle a thousand pounds a year on her during your own Life, and your whole Fortune in Reversion upon your Decease, she is ready to marry you.

_Skin._ Madam, I am as ready as she, and have given orders to my Lawyer to draw up the Articles for that purpose with the utmost Expedition, and I expect them to be brought every moment ready to sign.

_Lad._ Then, Harriet, I will leave you here, Child, while I call upon my Lawyer in Lincoln's Inn, who is to peruse the Writings.--Mrs.

Lucy, pray will you let one of your Men order my Coach up to the Door.

(_Exit Lucy_)

Sir Isaac Skinflint, your Servant. Mr. Bellair, yours. (_Exit_)

_Skin._ [To Harriet] Come Madam, let not these naughty Flannels disgust you; I can pull 'em off upon--um--ahu--certain Occasions. I shall look better in a few days.

_Har._ Better! That's impossible, Sir, you can't look better.

_Skin._ O Lord, Madam! (_Bowing_)

_Har._ (_Takes him by the hand_) There, there's a Figure; do but view him. Sir, I never saw a finer Figure for a Shroud and Coffin in my Life.

_Skin._ Madam! (_starting_)

_Har._ I say, Sir, you are a most enchanting Figure for a Shroud and Coffin.

_Skin._ Shroud and Coffin! (_He walks off! She after him_)

_Har._ Well I can't help admiring your Intrepidity, Sir Isaac; o' my Conscience, you have more Courage than half the young Fellows in Town.

Why what a Don Quixot are you to venture that shattered, shabby, crazy Carca.s.s of yours into a Marriage Bed with a hale Const.i.tution of Nineteen!

_Skin._ Why really, Madam----

_Har._ Why really, Sir, you'll repent it.

_Skin._ I believe it, I believe it, Madam.

_Har._ What you, who are a gouty, cholicky, feverish, paralytick, hydropic, asthmatic, and a thousand Diseases besides, venture to light Hymen's Torch! Why, Sir, it is perfect Madness; it is making but one Step from your Wedding to your Grave. Pray Sir, how long do you expect to live?

_Skin._ Not long I am sure if I marry you.

_Har._ You are in the right on't, Sir; it will not be consistent with my Pleasure or my Interest that you should live above a Fortnight; um--ay, in about a Fortnight I can do it. Let me see; ay, it is but pulling away a Pillow in one of your coughing Fits--or speaking properly to your Apothecary--a very little Ratsbane or Laudanum will do the Business!

_Skin._ O monstrous!

_Bell._ Madam, this is a behaviour unbecoming the Daughter of Lady Lovewealth, and what I am confident her Ladyship will highly resent.

_Har._ You are mistaken, Sir; my Lady has consented to his Death in a Fortnight after our Marriage.

_Skin._ O lud! O lud!

_Har._ She begged hard for a Month, but I could not agree to it; so now the only Dispute between us is whether he shall be poisoned or strangled.

_Skin._ O horrid! O terrible! So then it was agreed between you that I should be sent out of the World one way or t'other.

_Har._ Yes Sir. What other Treatment could you expect, you who are a mere walking Hospital! an Infirmary! O shocking! Ha! ha! There's a Figure to go to bed with. (_Pointing at him and bursting into a Laugh_)

_Skin._ I shall choke with Rage. Auh! Auh!

_Bell._ Madam, I cannot stand by and see this Treatment.--If you use him thus before Marriage, what ought he to expect after it?

_Har._ What? Why I have told him, Death! Death! Death!

_Skin._ Ay, you have indeed, Madam, and I thank you for it, but it shall never be in your Power, either to strangle or poison me. Auh!

Auh! I would as soon marry a she Dragon; Nephew, I beg you will turn her out--see her out of the House, pray.

_Bell._ Madam, let me beg you will shorten your Visit.

_Har._ O Sir, with all my Heart; I see you are a Confederate with your Uncle in this Affair, but I shall insist upon his Promise of Marriage; I can prove it, and a.s.sure yourself, Sir, if there be Law in Westminster Hall or Doctors Commons, you shall hear from me, and so your Servant, Sir. (_Goes off in a Pa.s.sion_)

_Skin._ Dear Nephew, see her out of the House; she has almost worried me to Death. (_Sits down_) (_Exit Bellair_)