The Works of Henry Fielding Part 4

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SCENE IX.--Mrs MONEYWOOD, WITMORE.

_Money_. Yes, sir; and, sir, a man that has never shewn one the colour of his money.

_Wit_. Very hard, truly. How much may he be in your debt, pray?

Because he has ordered me to pay you.

_Money_. Ay! sir, I wish he had.



_Wit_. I am serious, I a.s.sure you.

_Money_. I am very glad to hear it, sir. Here is the bill as we settled it this very morning. I always thought, indeed, Mr Luckless had a great deal of honesty in his principles: any man may be unfortunate; but I knew when he had money I should have it; and what signifies dunning a man when he hath it not? Now that is a way with some people which I could never come in to.

_Wit_. There, madam, is your money. You may give Mr Luckless the receipt.

_Money_. Sir, I give you both a great many thanks. I am sure it is almost as charitable as if you gave it me; for I am to make up a sum to-morrow morning. Well, if Mr Luckless was but a little soberer I should like him for a lodger exceedingly: for I must say, I think him a very pleasant good-humoured man.

SCENE X.--LUCKLESS, WITMORE, MONEYWOOD.

_Luck_. Those are words I never heard out of that mouth before.

_Money_. Ha, ha, ha! you are pleased to be merry: ha, ha!

_Luck_. Why, Witmore, thou hast the faculty opposite to that of a witch, and canst lay a tempest. I should as soon have imagined one man could have stopt a cannon-ball in its full force as her tongue.

_Money_. Ha, ha, ha! he is the best company in the world, sir, and so full of his similitudes!

_Wit_. Luckless, good morrow; I shall see you soon again.

_Luck_. Let it be soon, I beseech you; for thou hast brought a calm into this house that was scarce ever in it before.

SCENE XI.--LUCKLESS, MRS MONEYWOOD, JACK.

_Money_. Well, Mr Luckless, you are a comical man, to give one such a character to a stranger.

_Luck_. The company is gone, madam; and now, like true man and wife, we may fall to abusing one another as fast as we please.

_Money_. Abuse me as you please, so you pay me, sir.

_Luck_. 'Sdeath! madam, I will pay you.

_Money_. Nay, sir, I do not ask it before it is due. I don't question your payment at all: if you was to stay in my house this quarter of a year, as I hope you will, I should not ask you for a farthing.

_Luck_. Toll, loll, loll.--But I shall have her begin with her pa.s.sion immediately; and I had rather be the object of her rage for a year than of her love for half an hour.

_Money_. But why did you choose to surprise me with my money? Why did you not tell me you would pay me?

_Luck_. Why, have I not told you?

_Money_. Yes, you told me of a play, and stuff: but you never told me you would order a gentleman to pay me. A sweet, pretty, good-humoured gentleman he is, heaven bless him! Well, you have comical ways with you: but you have honesty at the bottom, and I'm sure the gentleman himself will own I gave you that character.

_Luck_. Oh! I smell you now.--You see, madam, I am better than my word to you: did he pay it you in gold or silver?

_Money_. All pure gold.

_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."

The Works of Henry Fielding Part 4

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The Works of Henry Fielding Part 4 summary

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