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dered; and at last Repentance, like the footman's flambeau lagginƒ behind, lights us to dangers when they are past all remedy.

Sulky. Your name is struck off the firm. I was the adviser.
Harry. You were very kind, Mr. Sulky.

Sulky. Your father is at last determined.
Harry. Ha, ha, ha! Do you think so?

Sulky. You'll find so. And what brought you here, sir? (To MILFORD.)

Milford. A chaise and four.

Sulky. It might have carried you to a safer place. When do you mean to pay your debts ?

Milford. When my father's executor prevails on the Widow Warren to do me justice.

Sulky. And which way am I to prevail ?

Milford. And which way am I to pay my debts ?

Sulky. You might have more modesty than insolently to come and brave one of your principal creditors, after having ruined his son by your evil counsel.

Harry. Ha, ha, ha! Don't believe a word on't, my good grumbler; I ruined myself! I wanted no counsellor.

Milford. My father died immensely rich; I ought not to starve. Sulky. You have had five thousand pounds, and are five more in debt.

Milford. Yes, thanks to those who trust boys with thousands. Sulky. You would do the same now that you think yourself a

man.

Milford. (Firmly.) Indeed I would not.

Sulky. Had you been watching the widow at home, instead of galloping after a knot of gamblers and pickpockets, you might perhaps have done yourself more service.

Milford. Which way, sir?

Sulky. The will of your late father is round.
Milford. Found!

Sulky. I have received a letter, from which I learn it was at last discovered, carefully locked up in a private drawer; and that it is now a full month since a gentleman of Montpelier, coming to England, was entrusted with it. But no such gentleman has yet appeared.

Milford. If it should have got into the hands of the widow !

Sulky. Which I suspect it has. You are a couple of pretty gentlemen. But beware! Misfortune is at your heels. Mr. Dornton vows vengeance on you both, and justly. He has not gone to bed; and, if you have confidence enough to look him in the face, I would have you stay where you are.

Milford. I neither wish to insult, nor be insulted.

[Exit.

Sulky. Do you know, sir, your father turned the poor fellow into the street, who compassionately opened the door for you? Harry. Yes.

Sulky. Very well, sir. Your fame is increasing daily.
Harry. I am glad to hear it.

Sulky. Humph! Then perhaps you have paragraphed yourself r Harry. Paragraphed ? What? Where?

Sulky. In the St. James's Evening.

Harry. Me?

Sulky. Stating the exact amount.

Harry. Of my loss?

Sulky. Yours. You march through every avenue to fame, dirty or clean.

Harry. Well said. Be witty when you can, sarcastic you must be, in spite of your teeth. But I like you the better. You are honest. You are my cruet of Cayenne, and a sprinkling of you is excellent.

Sulky. Well, sir, when you know the state of your own affairs, and to what you have reduced the house, you will perhaps be less ready to grin.

Harry. Reduced the house! Ha, ha, ha!

Enter Mr. DORNTON, with a newspaper in his hand.

Dornton. So, sir!

Harry. (Bowing.) I am happy to see you, sir.

Dornton. You are there, after having broken into my house at midnight; and you are here (pointing to the paper) after having ruined me and my house by your unprincipled prodigality. Are you not a scoundrel?

Harry. No, sir; I am only a fool.

Sulky. Good night to you, gentlemen. (Going.)

Dornton. Stay where you are, Mr. Sulky. I beg you to stay where you are, and be a witness to my solemn renunciation of him and his vices.

Sulky. I have witnessed it a thousand times.

Dornton. But this is the last. Are you not a scoundrel, I say? (TO HARRY.)

Harry. I am your son.

Dornton. (Calling off.) Mr. Smith! Bring in those deeds.

Enter Mr. SMITH, with papers.

You will not deny that you are an incorrigible squanderer ?

Harry. I will deny nothing.

Dornton. A nuisance, a wart, a blot, a stain upon the face of nature ?

Harry. A stain that will wash out, sir.

Dornton. A redundancy; a negation; a besotted sophisticated incumbrance; a jumble of fatuity; your head, your heart, your words, your actions, all a jargon; incoherent and unintelligible to yourself, absurd and offensive to others.

Harry. I am whatever you please, sir.

Dornton. Bills never examined, everything bought on credit, the price of nothing asked. Conscious you were weak enough to wish for baubles you did not want, and pant for pleasures you could not enjoy, you had not the effrontery to assume the circumspect caution

of common sense; and to your other destructive follies you must add the detestable vice of gaming.

Harry. These things, sir, are much easier done than defended. Dornton. But here give me that parchment! (To Mr. SMITH.) The partners have all been summoned. Look, sir! Your name has been formally erased.

Harry. The partners are very kind.

Dornton. The suspicions already incurred by the known profligacy of a principal in the firm, the immense sums you have drawn, this paragraph, the run on the house it will occasion, the consternation of the whole city

Harry. All very terrible, and some of it very true. (Half aside.) Dornton. (Passionately.) If I should happily outlive the storm you have raised, it shall not be to support a prodigal, or to reward a gambler.__[Exit Mr. SMITH.] You are disinherited. Read. Harry. Your word is as good as the Bank, sir.

Dornton. I'll no longer act the doting father, fascinated by your arts.

me.

Harry. I never had any art, sir, except the one you taugh

Dornton. I taught you! What!

Harry. That of loving you, sir

Dornton. Loving me!

Harry. Most sincerely.

Scoundrel!

What!

Dornton. (Forgetting his passion.) Why, can you say, Harryrascal! I mean, that you love me?

Harry. I should be a rascal indeed if I did not, sir.

Dornton. Harry! Harry! (Struggling with his feelings.) No; confound me if I do! Sir, you are a vile

Harry. I know I am.

Dornton. (Going.) And I'll never speak to you more!

Harry. Bid me good night, sir. Mr. Sulky here will bid me good night, and you are my father! Good night, Mr. Sulky.

Sulky. Good night.

Harry. Come, sir

Dornton. (Struggling with passion.) I wont. If I do

[Exit

Harry. Reproach me with my follies, strike out my name; disin herit me; I deserve it all, and more; but say, "Good night, Harry!"

Dornton. I wont! I wont! I wont!

Harry. Poverty is a trifle; we can whistle it off; but enmity
Dornton. I will not.

Harry. Sleep in enmity? And who can say how soundly? Come! good night.

Dornton. I wont! I wont! (Runs off.)

Harry. Say you so! Why then, my noble-hearted dad, I am indeed a scoundrel.

Re-enter Mr. DORNTON.

Dornton. Good night!

Harry. Good night!

[Exit

[Exit.

SCENE FROM MONEY.

EDWARD BULWER LYTTON.

[The literary career of Lord Bulwer Lytton afforded a striking example of the value of perseverance and a determination to succeed. In the various capacities of poet, dramatist, novelist, essayist, orator and politician, he achieved more or less distinction. Notwithstanding the temptation to lead the life of a mere dilettante, his industry was unflagging. At the time of his death, though suffering from acute pain, he was engaged upon three works of a widely distinct character. He died literally in harness in the year 1873, at the advanced age of seventy.]

CHARACTERS:

ALFRED EVELYN. SHARP. GRAVES.

Evelyn. All parties alike, nothing but Money versus Man!Sharp (SHARP rises and goes to him)-come here-let me look at you You are my agent, my lawyer, my man of business. I believe you honest;-but what is honesty ?-where does it exist ? -in what part of us?

Sharp. (L.) In the heart, I suppose, sir.

Evelyn. (c.) Mr. Sharp, it exists here in the pocket! Observe: I lay this piece of yellow earth on the table-I contemplate you both; the man there the gold here! Now, there is many a man in those streets honest as you are, who moves, thinks, feels, and reasons as well as we do; excellent in form-imperishable in soul; who, if his pockets were three days empty, would sell thought, reason, body, and soul, too, for that little coin! Is that the fault of the man?-no! it is the fault of mankind! God made man ; behold what mankind have made a god! When I was poor 1 hated the world; now I am rich I despise it! Fools, knaves, hypocrites!- -By the bye, Sharp, send £100 to the poor bricklayer whose house was burnt down yesterday

[Enter TOKE, R., announces MR. GRAVES. Exit, R.
Enter GRAVES, R.

Ah, Graves, my dear friend! what a world this is!

Graves. It is an atrocious world!-But, astronomers say that there is a travelling comet which must set it on fire one day,—and that's some comfort!

Evelyn. Every hour brings its gloomy lesson-the temper sours -the affections wither-the heart hardens into stone! Zounds, Sharp! (Crosses to SHARP, R. C., GRAVES places his hat on desk, L.) What do you stand gaping there for ?-why don't you go and see to the bricklayer? [Exit SHARP, R.

Evelyn. Graves, of all my new friends and their name is Legion -you are the only one I esteem; there is sympathy between uswe take the same views of life. I am cordially glad to see you! Graves. (Groaning.) Ah! why should you be glad to see a man so miserable?

Evelyn. Because I am miserable myself!

Graves. You! Pshaw! you have not been condemned to lose a wife!

Evelyn. But, plague on it, man, I may be condemned to take one! Sit down, and listen. (EVELYN goes up and brings chairs down, they sit). I want a confidant!—Left fatherless when yet a boy, my poor mother grudged herself food to give me education. Some one had told her that learning was better than house and land-that's a lie, Graves.

Graves. (L. C.) A scandalous lie. Evelyn!

Evelyn. (R. C.) On the strength of that lie I was put to schoolsent to college, a sizar. Do you know what a sizar is? In pride he is a gentleman-in knowledge he is a scholar-and he crawls about, amidst gentleman and scholars, with the livery of a pauper on his back! I carried off the great prizes-I became distinguished -I looked to a high degree. One day a young lord insulted me— I retorted-he struck me refused apology-refused redress. I was a sizar!-a Pariah!—a thing to be struck! Sir, I was at least a man, and I horsewhipped him in the hall before the eyes of the whole college! A few days, and the lord's chastisement was forgotten. The next day the sizar was expelled the career of a life blasted. That is the difference between rich and poor: it takes a whirlwind to move the one-a breath may uproot (the other! I came to London. As long as my mother lived I had one to toil for; and I did toil-did hope-did struggle to be something yet. She died, and then, somehow, my spirit broke—I resigned myself to my fate. At last I submitted to be the poor relationthe hanger-on and gentleman-lackey of Sir John Vesey. But I had an object in that-there was one in that house whom I had loved at the first sight.

Graves. And were you loved again?

Evelyn. I fancied it, and was deceived. Not an hour before I inherited this mighty wealth, I confessed my love, and was rejected because I was poor. Now, mark; you remember the letter which Sharp gave me when the will was read?

Graves. Perfectly. What were the contents?

Evelyn. After hints, cautions, and admonitions-half in irony, half in earnest (Ah, poor Mordaunt had known the world !), it proceeded but I'll read it to you:-"Having selected you as my heir, because I think money a trust to be placed where it seems likely to be best employed, I now not impose a condition, but ask a favour. If you have formed no other and insuperable attachment, I could wish to suggest your choice. My two nearest female relations are my niece Georgina, and my third cousin, Clara Douglas, the daughter of a once dear friend. If you could see in either of these one whom you could make your wife, such would be a marriage that I would seek to bring about before I die." My friend, this is not a legal condition-the fortune does not rest on it; yet, need I say that my gratitude considers it a moral obligation ? Several months have elapsed since thus called upon-I ought now to decide; you hear the names-Clara Douglas is the woman who rejected me! (They rise and push chairs back).

Graves. But now she would accept you!

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