NnotNa>| lAb!cc\aA •^T ii ! Return this book on or before the Latest Date stamped below. A charge is made on all overdue books. University of Illinois Library 19 1955 ecT 01 nrT L161— 1141 MAREIED FOR MONEY. COMELY, IN THREE ACTS. CHAKLES MATHEWS, ESQ., AUTHOR 09 Little Toddlekins ; Ag’^rravating Sam ; Two in the Morning , Dowager; My Wife’s Mother; His Excellencv ; Adventures of % Love Letter; Paul Pry Married and Se tied ; Wno Killed Cock Robin ; Humph eked Lover ; Black Domino ; Ringdoves; Truth;; Why did you Die j Patter v. Clatter ; My Awful Dad ; &c. &o. NEW YORK T. H. FRENCH LONDON SAMUEL FRENCH Successor to Samuel French & Son PUBLISHER PUBLISHER S8 West 23d Street 89 Strand TORONTO: Produced at Drury Lane, October 10th, 1856. Altered from the “ Wealthy Widow,'^ by John Foote, which wa^ j^oduced at Drury Lane Theatre, October 29th, 182ir. I ! DEAMATIS PEESONiE. Mr. Mopus ... ••• ••• ... Mr. Charles Mathews Bob Royland ... Mr. Robert Roxby Sir Robert Mell .wboy ... ... Mr a. Younge John ... ... Mu. Templeton Mrs. Mopus ••• ••• ... JMrs. Frank Mathews Matilda ... ••• ••• ... Miss M. Olivbb Simpkins ••• ••• ... Miss Ma.son. MAKRIED FOR MONEY, ACT I. Scene. — T toom aif Mopus’. Miniatnre on tcchle, R. A knock. Enter Jollify c. d.l. , sheudng o?i Bob. Bob. {qimng cardto ^oai^) There, give m ’ card to \oui master, (comes down, l. ; exit John, r.c.) Mopus ! Mopus ! Where are you ? Mopus ! Enter Mopcjs, c. d, r. Mopus. What, Bob? Come to rny arms. Who’d have thought of seeing you here ? Bob. But tell me, what are you doing in this great big house? I hope you’re not going too last again ? Mopus. No, no. Bob ; I’ve had enough of that. Sick of the tternal turmoil of the world, and the awful struggle with the difficulties of life, I determined to [mt an end to all pecuniary risks, and resolved at length to L ok out for a rich wife, and now. Bob, I am a reformed man, respectable. 1 am married. Bob. And your wife, you rogue ? I’ll answer for it, she was one of the prettiest girls in England. Mopus Oh, yjes ! I daresay she was a very pretty girl. But here, you may judge for > ourself ; here is a picture of I ht-r. (shews a mina my marriage with Irt lovely daughter, who, dependent < n her mother's caprice, may come to me perhaps without a shilling. Come and have a chop with me at the Tavistock, and renew our chat over a cool bottle. I Mopus. Not to-day. | Bob. To-morrow, then ? , Mopus. No, no. Airs. Mopus is so fond of my company I she does no' approve of my dining from home. Bob. We'd, then, I’ll stop and dine wdth you. Mqpus. No, no ; don’t do that. Women, you know% have odd whims ; and if there be one thing Mrs. Mopus dislikes nu'ro than another it is my bringing home strangers to dinner. Bob. Strangers, I grant you ; but to see an old friend of her husband’s she’d be delighted. Mopus. She w mld — she wmuld ; but — she must, be pre- pared for it. I never delight her of my ow'ii MCCord. TIarkee, Bob, you think me a contemptible fello .v, I daresay, and I should be ashamed of myself, if T had not the best of reasons for this. You must know that I am in a cursed scrape. I must keep my wife in good humour, since *tis she alone can help me out of it. MARP.IED FOR MONEY, 6 Bob. Ex2:)lain. Mopus. Why, prior to my marriage I had a sort of ac- quaintance witii Oh, it’s all over now. Bob. So ! so ! Mopus. You must have seen her at the Opera (^hrowing hnnselfin a dayicing attitude) — a perfect divinity. bo unlike Mrs. Mopus. Well, when I married, of eour e, as a point of propriety, I broke oh the connection ; a.]ul. wishing to do the thing handsomely, yet not having any money, i — I gave her my promissory n te for atolerab y round sum. Bob. Does your wife know oi; tins 1 Mopus. Not a syllable. If she did ! Now, though the note has., been long overdue, the poor dear girl he self would not trouble me about it ; but, unfortunately, j sshe says she has paid it av\ay, md its present owner vows he’ll piay Old Harry with me unless I pay it immediate y. Bob. So you reckon on your wife’s liberality for the supplies? Mopus. Exactly so. Bob. Well, I wish you success, but you have not told me who the lady was that you n arried i Mopus. Haven’t I ? Mrs. Nugget, the widow of the rich railway contractor. Bob. Mrs. Nugget ! whose daughter Matilda was placed under the care of an aunt at Bath ? Mopus. The same. boB. My dear fellow, this is the luckiest thing imaginable ! *Tis the very lady I was in search of. Mopus. You are acquainted with Matilda, th oi ? Bob. She is the object of my affections. ’Twas at the house of her late aunt I first beheld her. The poor old 1 dy sanctioned my addresses, but, as i was about to quit England for a few months, it was resolved that our attachment should be kept a secret from Matilda’s mother t.ll my return. Mopus. Your secret has been faithfully preserved. Bob. But where is Matilda ? Mopus. In the house at this moment. Bob. Has Mrs. Mopus any other views for her settlement ? Mopus. To say the truth, my wife does not inftn*m me (jf all her projects ; but in this case I may safely vtinfure to answer No. Bob. Do you foresee any objection to my pretensions ? Mopus. None ; on the contrary, to a m ther who still aspires to admiration, a pietty young daughter is no very desirable couipanion : so, no doubt, she will be glad to get the gill off her hands. Bob. You have made me the happiest man alive ; you must instantly introduce me to Mrs. Mopus. 6 MARRIED FOR MONEY. Mopus. I have now a good excuse for so doing, (crosses to h,) Bob. (r.) You must broacli the affair to her. Mopus. Directly. Bob. Abovi^ all, you must procure me an immediate inter- view with Matil a. Mopus. Nothing more easy. I say, Bob, one word. My Bessy — her name is Jezebel, but she prefers my calling her Bessy ; ’tis more tender — iny Bessy is a gv.od old soul at heart, but if this should happen to be one of her nervous days, on which occasion she is rather irritable, poor thing, you won’t mind if Bob. Oh ! if you think she’ll receive me coldly Mopus. Not at all, not at all ! Bless you, aftine in my wife’s house — as I am myself, (a violent rinqinq of bells. R. and L. ) Bob. What’s that ? Mopus. That ! — ’tis merely a bell. Bob. a bell ! why it is a regul .r peal of hells. Mopus Confound those lazy servants! John! John!! {enter John, c.d.l.) Don’t you hear your lady’s bell? John, {answers • egligently) Yes, sir. Mopus. Then why don't you attend to it ? John. ’Tis not for me my lady’s ringing, sir, but if I’m to be spoken t > — {aside) I’ll not be angry with him, poor fellow, there’s a rvH. in pickle for him as it is. {Kxit, d. l.h) Mopus. Here comes Simpkins ; she is one of the prettiest little girls in the world ; yet, would you believe it, my wife talks of discha.'ging her. Bob. (b.) Incredible ! Ha ! ha ! ha ! Enter Simpkins, c. d. r. Mopus. (c.) Come here, Simpkins, my dear. Sim. (l.) Hush ! You mustn’t my dear” me, sir, Mopu.s. Haven’t you heard your lad \ ’s bell ? Sim. Heard it ? Ha ! ha ! ha ! Oh ! yes, sir, Bve heard it this hal.f-hour, but ’tis you she is ringing for. Mopus. I'or me ? Sim. I wish you well through your troub es, sir. How could you do so ? Mopus. Do what? Sim. You know my lady gave you leave to go out walking for one hour, and you have been absent two. Mopus. Pshaw ! pshaw ! this ma leap is jesting, and hang mo but I’ll punish her for it. {looks cautiously about and hastily kisses her) Sim. For shame, sir! I’ll tell my mistress. Mopus. No, you won’t, you little gipsy, for if you did—— MARRIED FOR MONEY. 7 Slivi. We should both lose our places. {Exit door, L.) Mopus. This is a mere jest of that saucy girl’s. However, I’ll just step and see what my wife wants, (gohuj) Enter Mrs. Mopus, door l., loUhher bonnet on, Mrs. M. (holding up a watch to him) Do you see this, sir ? Mopus. My dear, I here’s a stranger. Mrs. M. (l.) VVhom have you brought here ? Mopus. An old friend — an old schoolfellow. Mr. Royland, Mrs. Mopus. Mrs. M. (curtseying very formally) \ Bob. Madam,,! take shame to myself for detaining my friend from his more agreeable duties, and Mrs. M. Sir. (aside) Another attempt. to renew acquaint- ance with his former wild associates. Bob. (to Mopus"! Ask her to introduce me to Matilda. Mopus. I will ; but I must first procure an invitation for yourself. Mrs. Mopus — I Mrs. M. Mrs. Mopus ! and in the presence of a visitor ! Mopxts Bessy, love, as our friend’s— my friend’s— stay in town will be of short duration I wns saying to him that our — that is your house, my love Mrs. M. You know, Alfred, my dear, we see so very little company, devoted as we are to the soci ty of each other, your friend would find my — our house but a hum-drum sort of refuge. Mopus. Yes, it is rather hum-drum. Mrs. M. I hope, Mr. Royland, you’ll do us the favour of calling to take lea-.e, before you quit town, (goes up stage) Bob. Madam, (aside) Now will he allow me to be politely turned out of the house, without seeing my dear Matilda? ril pay him for this, (to Mrs. Mopus) I’o say the truth, madam, my friend Mopus has been so pressing in his invita- tion — Mopus. (r. , to him). Don’t say that. Bob (c.) That although I have another engagement on hand, I cannot resist his earnest solicitation to dine Avitli him to-day. Mopus. (aside) He’ll ruin me ! (crosses to o.) No, my dear, I didn’t exactly say that, I merely said in case — Mrs. M. (to Mopus) Mighty well, sir, and without con- sulting me. Better at once convejt my house into a tavern for the reception of all the town, (very blandly) You forget, Alfred, my love, that to-day I expect Sir Robert Mellowboy on busi- ness of importance, and we shall be occupied the whole of the afternoon (goes up to table l.h. and sits) 8 MAKRIKD FOR MONET. Moptts. True, dear, (io Bob) I quite forgot that, (aside) Deuce a word have I heard of it till n w. Bob. So then you will not contrive an interview for me ‘ l^Topus. My dear fellow, we have chosen an unlucky moment. She’s nervous to-day. Wait for me a few luonients at the corner of the square. Ill make my escape and join you. Bob. Well, since ifc must be so. Mopus. You shall see Matilda before the day is past. Bob. If you disappoint me, I shall act for myse f. Mopus. Never fear, but leave us Together now. I say, just make her a bow. Bob. Madam, vour obedient servant, {hell rope, n.) Mbs. M. Very happy, sir, to have seen you. Alfred, love, ring the bell. (Mopus rings bell ; exit Bob) Mbs. M. (l., mgoocZ /mmour And pray, Mr. Mopus, who and what is this Mr. Roy land ? Mopus. (b.) As I t tell 3 ou that I expect a visitor at dinner to-day — out whose v sit is part y intended to you — an t to desire, therefore, that. y r mamma’s affecteJ astonishment, and Mr. Mopus’s nods and winks. He’s coming in ! < h ! Simpkins, this is the first really happy moment I have expe fenced since our parting. Sim. Is it indeed, miss ? Your parting ! Why I did not know you had ever met. Enter Bob. Bob. (r.) My dear Matilda ! Mat. (c.) Robert ! After a separation of fifteen long months, we meet again ! Bob. How anxiously have I looked forw^ard to the hour of my return to England. The instant I set foot on shore, I pcsr.ed to Bath, expecting to still find y- u there with your aunt. I no sooner received the melancholy intelligence that she was no more, than I proceeded to London. Ah ! my dear Matilda, had she still lived, she, who sanctioned, who fostered our attachment, would have obtained your mother’s consent to our union. Mat. Listen to me, Robert. I have never dared even to mention our acquaintance to mamma. Sim. Oho, that’s it, is it ? Mat. For though my mamma is very fond of me, and very kind to me, yet she is rather — she’s somewhat— well, we won’t speak of that. But, fortunately for us, we have a friend at ►our side, who, I believe, has told her all about it. ' ‘ Bob. Indeed ! and who may that be 1 12 MARRIED FOR MONEY. Mat. I find you are acquainted with my new papa. Bob. And a pretty friend to trust to is your new papa. 1 have been waiting for him, acco? ding to his pr* mise, to rejoin \ me till my patience is faiily exhausted ; and a little wtiile ago when, after much hesitation, he ventured to introduce me to Mrs. Mopus Mat. So you have seen her then ? and you are the visitor she expects at dinner ? Bob. She expects at dinner ! May be so ; but I confes I should not have discovered the fact 'from the form of the 1 invitation. i Mat. '1 hen she has not invited you ? Bob. JN ot pressingly. Yet it may be as you say. Mopus j undertook to i intercede f* r us ; and I am willing to believe ] that his regard for an old friend has overcome his dread of displeasing his wife, and that, to serve us, he has resolute y asserted the authority of a husband. Sim. His authority! Why he date not say his soul is his own. | Bob. But where is she i Mat. She is engaged with a Sir Robert Mellowboy, a gentleman who pretends to have some claims to a consider- able portion of my property, resj ecting wiiich a law suit is now pending. By-the-bye, what sort of person is lie, Simp- kins i for I never saw him. j Sim. (l.) Old, miss, very old ; but he s^ ems to be as good tempered, nice an old gentleman, as anold gentleman can be. He asked me 1 alf-a-dozen questions about you, miss ; par- ticularly whether you were handsome. Bob. What the deuce is that to him ? (goes R. H. so that Mopus does not see him on entering) Sim. Wha^ indeed 1 But somehow I don’t imagine he wanted the information as evidence in his suit at Liw. But once more, sir, about Mr. Mopus — if you have no other reliance than on his influence with my lady — Here he is ! Enter Mopus, c. d. Mopus. (c.) Plague take this two and two make four job • One might as well be underclerk to a haberdasher. Mat. (l.) Well now you have been a good little papa indeed ! ^ Bob. (r.) Mopus, you have re#lee?ned yours If in my! opinion ; and for what you have done, I thank you heartily. | (shaking his hand) Mopus. (looking anxiously about) Why, my — my dear fellow — This is too bad. You promised to wait for me ujl the square 1 ^ Bob. So I did till I was tired. j MATIHIED FOR MONEY. 13 Mopus. But you must not remain — not just now ; if Mrs. Mopus should catch you — me, I mean, {to Bob) ^lAT. How then ! you have not acquainted mamma with ]Mr. Boyhtnd’s addresses to me? OPUS. Bush ! not so Lmd. (aside) If my wife should ' find him here after her positive orders to the contrary Enter John, c. d. b. h. John. My mistress sent me to inquire whether you were examining the accounts she gave you, sir, but not finding you in the library Mopus. I am ; I am in the library. Go tell her so, there’s a good fellow. (Exit John, l. d.) Confound her vigilance 1 !Now Boyland, my boy, pray go. Jhere’s a good fellow. Bob. Well, Mr. Mopus, if this be your friendship Mopus. Don’t reproach me — you’re not married — you can’t appieciate the necessity of these delicate li tle attentions t- - the wish s of a wife ; besides I must keep her in good humour to day — the promissory note, you know. Mat. Will you desert us then ? Mopus. No, my dear, Royland was my earliest friend, and hang me, but I’ll be his father-in-law still, (a hell rings) That is for me. Go, Bob, I can’t explain just now, but {bell rings) Coming, love. (Exit, Ij,!).) Sim. You see, sir, how little you have to expect from him. Bob. I’ll see your mother at once and declare my intentions. Mat. No, no, you really had better not see her abruptly ! I’ll manage another interview with her before the day is past. (Exit, R.) Sim. (ivhispevs Bob) And now I’ll give you a hint. When you happen to meet Missis again, cTon’t be sparing of your flat^^ery. Tell her she's younger and handsomer than her daughter, what you please, so you but make the lved at a^l hazards. Mrs. M. You 11 have u - cau e to repent. As to the dif- ference in your ages, some people think there is no harm in :he preponderixiice t eing on the side of the husband. Sir K. The people who hink so, then, will have no cause :o be dissatisfied ; for they’ll find a devilish lumping weight n my scale. But have you mentioned this afiair to Mr. ¥l opus ? Mrs. M. (ivitJi indifference) No ! Sir K Then how do you know that he’ll consent to it ? Mrs. M. I never think it necessary to consult him. He is JO tenderly attached to me he always c nfirrns nay, he i ticipates, my v>ishes. Sir R. Delightful ! Now should the intended Lady Mel- owboy prove but half so loving, so submissive, so obedient to me Mrs. M. Doubt it not, she’ll make you an excellent wife. Sir R. Then there is no more to be said. I’ll instantly to ntiy lawyer, desire him to trans^^o m his declarations, re- joinders, and appeals, into marriage articles, settlements, Mrs. M. (smiling) Sir Robert, is this your gallantry ? Don’t ^ou desire to bo presented to Ma ilda bef.me you go 1 You exhibit but little of the impatience of a lover. Sir R. My good lad V, I’m just turned of sixty-one, and liaving waited all these years for a wife, I can t asily contrive bo wait one nour longer, (a tap at the door heardy L.) What s that ? Mrs. M. ’Tis only my little Alfred. Sir R. Your little Alfred ! I thought Matilda was your only child ? Mrs. M. ’Tis Mr. Mopus. That is one of my pet names for him. You may come in, hive ! S iv noth ng of this busi- ness to him at present. I have my reasons for it. Come in., love ! Enter Mopus, d.l., eomes down, c. Mopus. Ah ! Sir Robert, you are welcome to London ! I’m very glad to see you. (crosses, c.) Sir R. (l.) I’m happy to see you, and to find you looking 80 well. Mopus. Am I ? Gad ! I’m not very well. Mrs. M. Not well, dear ? What’s the matter ? Mopus. 1 want air, exercise ! A few days’ shooting with yon. now, Sir Robert, and two or three other jolly dogs 16 MARKIEI) YOU MONh^Y. like ourselves — for I’ve heard that in your youlh you were^ [ and good humoured, and though 1 am an old fellow, with a * touch of the gklnrf at them) ' Twenty-five and fifty — nothing absolutely celestial about that ; but when it shall C(;m3 to forty-five and and seventy ! — well, if I’m to marry I must refl' ct. ? ( D. L. ) f Mrs. M. a very naughty boy it was. Mopus. My dear, I only — ^ f Mrs. M. That wdll do. Now don’t answer me, Alfred ; you know 1 never like to be answered. Have you exaiuiued 1 the bills ? Mopus. Yes, de^ir. Mrs. M. Tin re’s a good child ! Ring the bell, (bell)^ Hopus. (rings) What have I been ringing for ? Mrs. M. Wiiat can it sigiii‘y ? ^ Mr»pus. Apropos^ tliere is one item which ought to be ; charged to your prlvati^ account, considering you have all the f/ amusement to yourself. Mrs. M. And which is that ? MARRIED FOR MONEY. l7 Mopus. Ha, ha, ha ! Thirty ghillings for repairing youp broken nells. Mks. M. Mr. Mopns ! Mopus. (aside) I dare not even attempt to be funny ! Enter Johnc/jk/ Simpkins, c. Mrs. M. T ordered the cabriolet. Is it at the door ? John. Yes, n a’am. (Simpkins puts shaicJs and parasol on table, r. , and exit, Mopus. (aside) Now must I go dangling about with her again ; not a moiiien 's liberty or pleasure ! My love, you — youdl find it very coid. Hadn’t we better take tite do 0 carriage ? Mrs. M. C-AH, sir, with the thermometer at seventy ? Are you ashanied to be seen in public with me? (to John) Let the head of the cabriolet be throw’^ l:.»cK — quite back. {to Mopus) Fetch Nelly. Mopus. (to John) Fetch Nelly ! don’t you hear her? John. ’Twas to yoii my lady spoke, sir. (Mopus kicks him off, c.) Mopus. {aside) If I could but escape to meet my cursed creditor and obtain a little longer delay. Simpkins brings the dog to Mrs. Mopus, loJio points to Mopus. Simpkins puts the dog and shawls in Mopus’s arms, Mrs. M. What makes you so thoughtful, Alfred? Mopus. Nothing. Where are we going, Be sy ? Mrs. M. To make some little purchases at my milliner’s. I want you to choose a l-onnet for me ; you — you must make me a present of it, and insist on paying for it yourself ; you understand ? Mopus. Pay for it ? I ? Mrs. M. What can he do with all the money I allow him ? (aloud) How much m ney have you got ? Mopus. (examining his purse) A fialf-crown and sixpence, love. Mrs. M. Alfred ! Alfred ! — well, I won’t scold you now. There, you can take my purse, and give it me again when we return. Ugh ! the heat is in..upportab e. Simpkins, where’s the parasol ? Give it to Mr. Mopus, for poor little Nelly’s eyes, {puts Mopus’s necktie aright ; pxdls down the tail of his coat, and makes him walk be fore her. Both go up %tage, and exeunt^ C.) 18 MARRIED FOR MONEY, ACT 11. Scene. — Same. Enter Sir Kobert Mellowboy, c. d., 'puts his hai en table, R. H. Sir E-. {spenking off) Very well, very well, 111 wait their ret urn, (sits) I shall consider myself fortunate if the fatig^ e of this moving d es not bring on a tit of the gout. ’Twould be fatlier inconvenient at the moment I am about to throw my- self at the feet of my intended ! When I told my lawyer that I was come to town to marry a young wife, he laughed outright. 'I here was a special pkachr in the room and so did he. I am afraid there must be something unusually ridiculous in what I have undertaken, that could make a special [deader laugh. However, 1 have gone too far to recede. But the most trying part of the business is to come. The first interview, the courtship, the declaration — I doubt but I shall make but awkward work of it, so long have I Ijeen out of practice in atfai. s of the heart. Ha! here comes a devilish prettv gi-d; the same I saw this morning; one of the servants, I suppose. Gad ! I’ll i ehearse the scene with her. {enter Simpkins, d. r.) Come hit'ie'-, my little Venus. •Sim. Simpkins, if it is the same thing to you, sir. Sir B.. Well, then, Hnipkins, you must do me a service. Sim. {aside) Lord, what a good natured funny old gentle- man he is. Sir It. In the fir.^t place, Simpkins, you must give me a little piece of information. I know that you housemaids are always in the family secrets, therefore Sim. Housemaid ! upon my word ! I beg you will understand I’m lady’s maid ! I’m no housemaid, sir ! Sir R. Well, well, my dear, don’t be angry. I didn’t mean to offend you. But, tell me, is your mistress’s heart engaged ? Sim. {aside) Oh > ! a spy set to work by my old mistress. {aloud) Why do you ask me, sir ? What should housemaids know about hearts ? Sir B. Come, come, I have particular reasons for the inquiry. Sim. {aside) As I suspected. He shall not know the truth from me. {aloud) Why then, sir, it is not. Sir R. {aside) So far then I am sa-'e. {aloud) What’s your Age? Sim. About the same as Miss Matilda’s— nineteen. Sir R. {aside) This is the ver^’’ thing. The sentiment* of one young woman cf nineteen are pretty much like those of another. So, now, Simpkins, take this {gives her a sovereign) MARRIED FOR MONEY. 19 and tell me sincerely what should you think of me for a husband ? SiM. Do you mean to take me at my word, and that I Bhould marry ynu? Jti. B no means, my de r ! Sim. In that case, sir, I think you’d make a very good sort of a husband, and that any woman might be happy with you. Sir B. T did not give you that sovereign as a bribe to flatter me, you rogue. JSiM. hat reason can you have for supposing I flatter you ? Sir B (aside) Sixty-one tolerably coge it reasons, (aloud) ISTow come, here is another s vereign for the truth. Do you really me n that any woman mi^ht be happy with me ? Sim. 1 do, indeed, sir. 1 mean any old woman. Sir B. (aside) Humph ! I might as well have let the question rest, for the amendment is a devilish dear one at a sover. ign. (aloud) But I’m speaking of a young woman, "^ou are a sharp, clever wench, and I should like to have your opiii on honestly and sincerely. Would h be very difli- cult for a young girl to love an old fellow of sixty ? Sim. An old fellow of sixty ? I don’t know that it would be very difficult, but I think she would find it much easier if > ou would contrive to split him into two young ft Hows of thirty. Do you wish for another sovereign’s worth, sir ? Ha, ha, ha ! Sir B. Not at present; yoi have supplied me with a stock of knowledge which, with tolerable economy, will last me a month. Enter Mrs. Mopus and Mopus, c. ; he has a bonnet box in his hand^ and several parcels in his pocket. Mrs. M. (speaking as she enters) I’ll not be contradicted, Alfred. I watched you, sir, and you shall never go with me to my milliner’s a ain. (down, l.c.) Mopus. (c.) You are mistaken, my love ; ’twas merely admiring her cap. Mrs. M. Ah, Sir Bobert, so soon returned ? Your im- patience is easily to be accounted for. You have seen Matilda ? Sir B. No, madam ; I hax e waited to bo presented by you. I’d rather you would prepare the way for me. Mrs. M. Where is Miss Matilda ? Sim. (r.) Waiting for me to assist her to dress, ma’am. Mrs. M. Then what w ere you doing here ? Sim. Ma’am, I only Mrs. M. Don’t answer me ! Go to her immediately, and tell her I wish to see her. 20 MARRIED FOR MONEY. Mo PUS. What am I to do with all these things, Bessy? Mrs. M. I declare, Alfred, you have no more intelligenc® than an infant. Why give them to Simpkins, to be sure. Sim. {to Mopus) i shall never be able to carry them all at once, sir ! Mopus. I thought so too* till I was obliged. {gives her 'parcels) Mrs. M. Well, Sir jRobert, have you seen your attorney ? Sir R. I have, and all the matters are in a fair train for settlement — at least as far as the lawyers can asdst me. Mopus. {to Simpkins) There, go. Tell Mat Ida the law suit is terminated — that has put her mother in a good humour and I shall at once speak to her in favour of Robert Roy- land. {Exit Simpkins, r.) Mrs. M. Alfred ! Mopus. I was telling Simpkins to put those parcels away carefully, {gives purse to Mrs. Mopus) Sir Robert, my wife in the course of our drive informed me of an event which has given me heartfelt satisfaction. I rejoice at it for M a tilda’s sake. {crosses to c. ) Sir R. And I thank you, Mr. Mopns, for my own. Mopus. Of course, she has warmly expressed her gratitude to you for leaving her in quiet possession of her little property. Sir R. You are mistaken. 1 have not yet had the pleasure of seeing the youngr lady. Mopus. No ? Then I can tell you, you will see one of the prettiest girls — (Mrs. Mopus looks a'iigrily at him) The very counterpart of my Bessy. Sir R. {aside) The devil she is ! Mopus. Just what the rosebud is to the rose, {aside) I mwst keep her in good humour to-day. Sir R. (c.) Bug has Mrs. Mopus told you no more of our arrangements than that ? Mrs. M. (r.) ao, no, there was no occas'on. Mopus. Well, love, to the point. I was thinking that since she is now, as it were, independent, we ought to consid r about settling her in the world. Don’t you agiee with me. Sir Robert ? Sir R. Perfectly. Mrs. M. And you’ve been thinking of that 1 Ppon my word, you are astonishingly clever. It has already been thought of. Mopus. That’s lucky, for I have carried my paternal con- sideration so far that 1 have thought of ihe very husband for her. MARRIED FOR MONEY, 21 Mrs. M. Have you ? That point is already decided upon. Mopus. Yery suddenly then, for it was only this morning — Mrs. M. Pray, Alfred, don’t talk so much, you positively distract me. fehe will shortly be married to S r Robert. Mopus. To Sir Robert ? Pcch! pooh! you’re joking. Why surely you don’t mean to marry Matilda — seriously ! Sir R. Very seriously. For, hang me, Mr. Mopus, if I look uponifc as a joke. Mopus. Well, then, all that I shall say upon the subject is Mrs. M. And what shall you say ? Mopus. Why, my dear — that- in sliort — I’m very much astonished at it. Sir R. And to say the truth , so am T. Mopus. ('aside) Poor Royland ! his hopes are at an end. Have you considered the disparity of your ages ? Sir R. Deeply, but with so enticing an example before me Mopus. True, I never thought of that. Sir R. Besides, there’s no true happiness but in the married state, and I’ve been thinking so for these last forty years, E^iter John, c. l, John. Mr. Royland desire s to see you, sir. Mopus. (aside) He comes at a blessed time. Mrs. M. Notwithstanding my objections then— Mopus. My love, ’tis no fau t of mine if (aside) ITl go tell him of this cursed arrangement, and put him out of his misery at one ■, poor fellow, (aloud) My dear, he has some- thing to communicate to me in private. I’ll just step down to him. Mrs. M. What can he have to say to you, sir, to which I may not be a party ? (to John) Request Mr. Royland to walk up. (Exit John, c. l.) Mopus. (aside) Now here will be a pretty discovery. Sir R. Royland, did you say ? Whose father died at Barbadoes ? Mopus. The same. Sir R. I knew him well, and shall be glad to make an acquaintance with the son. I’ve heard him highly spoken of. Mrs. M. You don t know the young men of the pre enf day, Sir Robert, (crosses to c.) Sir R. Ahem ! They’re very different from those of our time, I daresay. Enter Bob, c. Bob. Upon my word, Mopus, you’re a pretty fellow at 22 MARRIED FOR MONEY. keeping your appointments — {comes down, R. , arhd sees Mir^. Mopus). Mrs. Mopus ! — the devil ! \bows) Mada n Mrs. M. (l. c.) Sir ! So Mopus has made an appoint- ment with you ? Bob. (c., aside) I’ve not forgotten Simpkins’ advice, (aloud) He had, madam, but as I met my enviiible friend in your compan}^, lean e^si y excuse his forgetting me. Mrs. M. Sir ! (curtseys) He’s civil ermugh. Bob. The fact is, madam Mopus. (inierruiding him) Royland, hero is a gentleman who is des rous of your acquaintance. Sir Robert Mellow - boy, Mr. Royl nd. Sir K. I am iiappy to shake you by the hand, sir, I knew your good father well, (crosses to Bob) Bob. Sir, I recollect your name now. I’ve heard him speak of you. I believe you were at school together, about half a century ago. Sir R. Yes, sir, it was about — as lately as that ; but 1 wish you would employ some other mode of dating events than by half centuries, for you must know that just at this moment I Bob. Ten thousand pardons. I assure you I did not intend to speak strictly to a year or two. (to Mopus) Mheie s Matilda ? Mopus. Hush ! Mrs. M. (crosses toe.) Might I inquire, sir, to what we are indebted for the pleasure of seeing you so s jou again ? Bob. Has not my friend Mopus informed you, madam ? He promised me that Mopus. (to him) T'here’s been no opportunity, (to Mrs. Mopus) There’s been no opportunity, (to Bob again) No opportunity. Bob. (to Mopus) Has she been nervous again? (aloud) Why then, madam, I beg you will allow me to speak for myself Mopus. You had better let me do it. My fr.eml Royland is preparing to leave town, love, and (to Bob) tis the wisest step you can take — (aloud) and he desires your permission — to visit us occasionally prior to his depar ure. That’s all. Bob. All! Mrs. M. (coldly) Oh, sir, you do us much honour. Sir R. And allow me, Mrs. Mopus, as one of the family to join in the invitation. Bob. One of the family ! I did not know he was a relation. Mopus. A precious relation you’ll find him. Bob. What is the meaning of all this ? (crosses to Ki,) But, MARRIED FOR MONEY. 2t Hindam, although that I might occasionally be a witness to my rriend^s — felicity —was the first motive of my visit, the next was, that having known your late sister at Bath, at whose house I sometimes saw iVJis-^ Matilda whose lovely features I instantly recognised in those of her amiable mother Sir B. (aside) I hope wfith all my heart that’s a lie ! Mrs. M. Upon my word, sir, you overpower me with your politeness. Bob. (aside) She takes it and I’m safe, (aloud) I say, ma’arn, that having known Mrs. M. Pray, sir, say no more. Your having been re- ceived by my poor sister is sufficient recommendation. I shall always he defighted to see you. Mopus. Always dehghted to see you. Mrs. M. (to Mopus) If all your acquaintances were like him indeed. Mopus. Bravo, Bob, you’re on the right tack— keep it up. Mrs. M. You have seen Matilda then ? Bob. I have had that happiness, (crosses to Mrs. MopuO Mrs. M. (c.) You will be delighted to hear that she is ab' ut to be married. Bob. (r.c.) Married ! (Jioohs inquiringly at Mopus) Mrs. M. To Sir Bobert. Bob. Sir Bobert ! {looks at Mopus, ivho makes signs to him) Y' hy, surely, not this Sir Bobert ? Sir B. Yes, sir, to this undeniable and identical Sir Bubert. Why, what the deuce are they all so astonished at ? Bob, Beally, ihe suddenness of this announcement— (aside to Mopus) and you, Mopus, to allow Mopus. My dear fdlow, how could I help it ? Bob, Of course, ma’am, the young lady’s inclinations have been consulted, and she has consented to Mrs. M, May I be permitted to remind you that you are touching upon family affairs, Mr. Roy land ? Mopus. Don’t touch on family affairs. Bob. (aside) I shall go wild ! and Mopus has not the spirit to assist me. (goes down, R. Door opens, R.) M RS. M. See ! here comes my daughter. What do you think of her ? Sir B So well that shall be perfectly satisfied should she think only half so well of me. Dnter Matilda, followed Simpkins, d.r. Mat, (r.o., to Simpkins) Mr. Boyland here ! Who could have contrived this for us I Mrs. M. (c.) Matilda, my love, this gentleman is Sir Bobert Mefiowboy, who.m, notwiUistanding our late dissensions, 1 MAKRIEB FOR MONEY. c4, desire you will consider as an old friend — a venj old friend, of the family. Sir R. (l. , to Mrs. Mopus) You need not insist so strongly upon that point ; 1 daresay she has penetration sufficient to discover that for herself. Mrs. M. {seeing whispering to Royland) Alfred ! what are you about ? Mopus. Nothing, love. Sir R. (to Matilda) 2 — madam, I am as your g-'od mother has truly said — T- now I wonder what is the cause of this sudden fit of timidity ? Mrs. M. (to Matilda) Is the girl bewildered ? Have you nothing to reply ? Mat. To what ? Sim. (aside) To what he intended to say, I suppose. Mrs.^ M. (sees Mopus again whispering to Royland) Mat. I have been informed of Sir Robert’s generous abandonment of his claims, for which he may be assured of my gratitude, (goes up) Mrs. M. (Mopus again whispers to Royland) Alfred ! I shall send you out of the room, (a long pause. To Matilda) You will henceforth consider him as your bestf >mur warmest friend ; but the abandonment of his claim is not uncon- ditional. Bob. (aside to Mopus) Could I say but one word to her ? Mopus. (aside) Be quiet ! You’ll get me sent out of the room in a minute. Sir R. (to Mrs. Mopus) Leave us together. I daresay J shall be bolder when there is nobod v by. Mrs. M. Now, Matilda, 1 leave y')u with Sir Robert. He has a communication to makeof the deepest importance to you. Mat. (aside) To be tormented about that tiresome lawsuit, when I am so anxious to speak to Robert. Sim. (aside) I suspect there’s more love than law in the business. Mrs. M. (to Matilda) By-the-bye, here is a gentleman who tells me you have met at Bath. Mat. Yes ; Mr. Royland ai d 1 Mrs. M. And do you really perceive a resemblance, Mr. Royland? Bob. No sUters were ever more alike, (aside) I am in agonies ! Mrs. M. Sisters ! He ! he ! he ! Tf you are diseuL-aged to-day, perhaps you will take dinner with us, and renew acquaintance with my sister. Bob. Madam, I shall be delighted. MARRIED FOR MONEY. 25 Mopirs. (aside) Bravo ! Bob. You’ve done more for your- self than I could have done for you. Mas. M. Now, Mr. Boy] and ! Bob. Madam, (gives his arm; aside to Mopus) Do put her on her guard, whisper her to reject him at all hazards. Mopus. I will ! I will ! (goes Matilda) Mrs. M. Come, Alfred, come ! Mopus. I am only just shewing the miniature to Matilda. Mrs. M. Do you hear me, Alfred ? Lead the way to the drawing-room. Mopus. Yes, dear, I’ll follow you directly. Mrs. M. (very imperatively) Lead the way to the drawing- room ! (Exit Motvs, Mrs. Mopus and 'R oyla^J} following, d.l.) Sim. (aside) Now to know what this very important affair is about. Mat. (aside) I am now certain that mamma has been acquainted with it all along, and has merely intended a pleasant surprise for me. Sir K. (brings down chairs. Matilda sits, R.C., Sir Robert, B. L. c.) Ahem ! Now, Miss Matilda, that we are alone (sees Simpkins) So, Mrs. Simpkins, you are here, you needn’t i?ait. Sim. Never mind me, sir, ’tis no trouble. S’R R. You may go, Simpkins ; your young lady is quite eafe under my protection. As you heard your m' stress de- clare I’m a friend of the family. ‘ Sim. (aside) Provoking ! (aloud) My mistress’s words were, a very old friend,” sh’ — old ; (aside) and spite of the say- ing he’d be none the worse for a new face. (Sir Robert motions her off) Surely, sir, you are too polite to turn a young lady out ( f the room ? Sir R. I am one of the politest men existing, (rises, offers arm to Simpkins, and with much ceremony bovjs h off, c.) Mat. (suppressing a laugh) What an extraoidinary old gentleman ! Sir R. Hem ! Miss Matilda, the si. ^ject of the business which — (starts) C- nfound tho gout ! that is an ominous twinge at the outset of a tend r declaration. Mat. (aside) What can be the cause of his hesitation in speaking about a mere matter of business? If he were not old enough to be my grandfatiter one wou’d fancy he was going to make love to me. (aloud) I am sure, sir, I am attributing your liesitation to its true cause when I say tha^ to a generous mind it is always painful to allude to tli 26 MAKEIED FOR MONET. obligations it may have conferred. But pray speak, air. 1 am prepared to listen to you with attention and respect. Sir R. {aside) Respect ! I wish it had been any other WcTd. (aloud) Yonr frankness, Miss Matilda, your evident good sense, have inspired me with confidence ; and 1 will speak to you with candour and sincerity; will you vouchsafe to answer in th same spirit I Mat. I always do, sir. Sir R. Your mother said, and she said truly, that the communication I have to make is one of the deepest im- portance to you ; it may affect the happiness of your future me— (aside, ^v^thtlmnge of gout) — four or five years of it or so. Mat. (aside) This is a very solemn introduction to ^the mere business of a lawsuit. Sir R. To the property bequeathed to you by your late father I have a claim, established by the clearest evidence. I abandon my claim, but upon one condition. Mat. So mamma apprized me, sir. Explain it. Sir R. (aside) Explain it ! ah ! now comes the tug ; but courage, old Bob Mellowboy, dashing Bob as you were called in your youth, (aloud) That condition, Miss Matilda, is — Marriage. Mat. Marriage ! Sir R. Marriage, but there shall be exercised no tyran- nical control over your inclinations. No mother’s commands shall be allowed to sway them. No, to any such proceeding I shall object. Mat. Beally, sir, this is so unexpected I Sir B. One word more. Miss Matilda. You have promised to answer me with sincerity. Mat. I have, sir. Sir R. Could you love ? — could you be happy with ? Mat. (anxiously) Whom? SirR. One who is at — (about to kneel unobserved by her) I must not venture that, for u might not be so easy to get up again — one who (aside) — I’ll break it to her delicately — by degrees (aloud) — one who in the house at this moment— ^inxious and trembliii ' for a favourable result to his hopes. Mat. Then, ’tis so. Are you serious, sir ? And is tliis with my mother’s consent and approbation ? Sir R. Strictly. Mat. Then she has known it all along ? Sir R. From the beginn nsr. Mat. And as I suspected, she planned this happy surprise for me ? Sir R. She did— she did. But do you really, and of your own free will, consent to the proposal ? MARRIED FOR MONEY. 27 Mat. Consent to it? Oh, sir, you Ime rendered me the happiest of women Oh, Sir Robert, these ars tears of joy I shed, {kisses his hand) Dear Robert, what happiness will be ours ! Sir R. Dear Robert ! {(kli. Sir R. And are you willing to rehnquish the pleasures and gaiet'es of a town life for a quiet retreat in the country ? Mat. ’ I is what I have always desired. Sir R. One last question. Now, suppose that your — Rober , suffering now and then under an attack of rbeiima- ti^*m, or gout — sucU misfo tunes wull occur — sup^ ose he should be troublesome, peevish, morose ? Mat. By gentle attentions I’ll endeavour to soothe his pangs. I wull allay the excusable irritation of Ids temper by good humour. Sir R. Charming, charmmg ! {rises and puts chairs hack) Then I may inform Mrs. Mopus that you fully and freely consent to this marriage ? Mat. And you may add joyfully too. Sir R. Lovely, divine Matilda, you have— I’m in ecstacies — I— {aside) I’d best withdraw, or I shall make a fool of myself. Blockhead that I was for doubting my succ< ss. Gad ! your physiologi ts have been blundering all this time, and sixt\ -one is the prime of life after all. {goes off looking tenderly at Matilda ; checked by a tivinge of gout ; exit, d. l.J Mat. What a strange, comical old g ntleman it is ! but so kind as he has been in managing this affair with mamma, I ought not to laugh at hi n. Here comes Robert ; how de- lighted he will be. Enter Mopus and Bob, d. l. Mopus. But, my dear f How, what wou’d \ on have me do ? Bob. You have taught me to expect but little from you. 28 MAEUIED FOB MONET. My dear Matilda, with what impatience l ave I waited the termination of your conference with that old Mat. Speak not unkindly of him, Robet t ; lie’s proved himself an excellent friend. Thanks to him, ’tis all settled. Bob. Settled ! Then you have rejected the proposal ? Mat. Rejected it ? You know me too well to imagine so. Oh, Robert, when this morning wc met in anxieiy and doubt, we little expected so sudden, so happy a change in our fortunes. Mopus. What do you mean ? Mat. I have, as you might have expected, given my full consent, and he is now gone to acquaint mamma witli it. Bob. Then you have consented to marry him ? Mat. Him ! Of whom are you speaking? Bob. Of one whom it would be too ridiculous to call a rival — old — old- -old Sir Robert. Mopus Ay, old Sir Robert, whom your mother sent for from the country on {purpose to marry you. Mat. Mercy on me ! What have 1 done ? A light breaks in upon me. ‘‘Robert! — Country retreat 1 — Several years older !” Answer me one questi n : Aie you peevish and morose when you are afflicted with the gout? Bob. I afflicted with the gout ! This is mere trifling. Mopus. No ; but are you, though ? {treads on his toes) Come, confess. Mat. There has been some fatal misunderstanding. I thought it was for you he wuis pleading. I never should have suspected it was for himself ; and, under that delusion, J permitted him to acquaint mamma that I {in tears) joy- fully accede to the proposal. Bob. Now, Mr. Mopus ! Mopus. Aye! “ Aow, Mr. Mopus.” I’m to bear the blame of Matilda’s mistake. Bob. Had you but remained and given her the slightest hint Mopus. (l.) And so I intended to do. Zounds ! is it my fault that my wife would not let me ? Bob. (o.) Not let you ! If you had the spirit of a mouse Mopus. Mouse! Nonsense! don’t talk to me about mice! I wish with all my heart she were y ur wife ; you would hold very different language, 1 promise you. Mice, indeed I hi T. What ii t ) be done, Robert ? This unhappy error will but increase the difficulties of our situation. Bob. Had we not relied on the friendsliip of your good papa, and his pretended influence with Mrs. Mopus — — Mopus, Now don’t be intemperate, take it coolly. MARRIED FOR MONEY, 29 Bob. Coolly ! Confusion ! Mopus. Here’s a man raving at the idea of missing a wife, whilst I am a model of Patience — who have one. Mat. Now, Mr. Mopus — papa — {pats his cheek) — mv dear little papa — you know that with a little coaxing you may ob- tain anything from mamma. Would you see me so cruelly sacrificed ? — me, Matilda, your aflfectionate daughter. Dear little papa ! (pats his cheek) Bob. (pats his other cheek) Dear litPe papa! Come, Mopus, you are, after all, the properest person to inteifere. Mopus. Well, I believe I am, Bob. Bob. For once assert your authority. Mopus. ’Gad, I will. Bob. Bob. Bepresent to her the folly, the cruelty, of enchain- ing youth to age, the Mopus. Stop 1 that argument would not be very concilia- tory. But let me see — (loith firmness) KovlaMd, your hand. Matilda, I’ll instantly to your mother. I’ll rescue you irom the misery of this marriage. I’ll rescue you, or — as I believe is usual on such occasions — I’ll peiish in the attempt. Enter Simpkins, d. r. ; seeinig Mopus she conceals letter. Mat. (c.) Well, Simpkins, have you heard of our misfortune? SiM. (r.) Mis all over the house by this time, miss. Bob. (l.) And you, I suppose, have done as much to assist your young lady as my friend here? Sim. You have contrived to obtain another interview with Miss Matilda without my assistance, 1 own ; but I’ve not been idle for all that. Mopus. (l. c. , aside) Why surely ’tis a letter she i ^ concealing. Mat. And what have you been doing for us ? Sim. Studying geography, miss. Bob. Studying geography? Sim. I’ve been picking out the North Road on the map of England, and packing up two trunks ; one for myself, and the other (curtseying) for you, miss. Mat. (angrily) S imp . ^ ins 1 Sim. ’Tis as well to be prepared for the worst, miss. Mopus. What have you tliere ? Sim. a ktter, sir ; but it is not for my mistress, so you need not be jealous ; no one is going to run away with her. Mopus. No, and be hanged to it 1 But if it be addressed to me give it to me. Sim. That is the very reason why I must not. Mvvouidbe as much as my placo is worth to give you your letters till she has seen them ; besides, sir, written with a crowquill, and the seal is a little Cupid. so MARRIED FOR MONEY Mopus. {imploringly) Now give me the letter ! Mat. Give it to him, Simpkins, he’s promised to do ders for ns. Sim. There, then, but don’t betray me ! {gives Utter) {Exit Simpkins, r.) Bob. And now, Mopus, our fate is in your hands. Re.nem- ber what you’ve undertaken. Mopus. i do, and instantly will I redeem my pledge. Be here again in a quarter of an hour. In the interim i’ll speak to my wife. Mat. If y m fail us this time Bob, Don’t faii us. {Exeunt Bob, o., and Matilda, r.) Mopus. Fail you ? No ! The dan er of the poor g rl in- spires me with an unwonted courage, and, Mrs. Mopus, for once will I teach you. {going) I may as well see wh t this letter is about. Ha ! ’tis from {assuming a dancing attU tude) Um ! um ! Sorry, lament. I have wept, knelt, pi a}ed to him, but in vain. The holder of the note you gave me is obdurate, his myrmidons Ha ! a p 'etical name for bum-bailifFs. ‘^His myrmid'ns are in quest <‘f you; so pray satisfy him without delay, and believe mo.” Here is a pretty pie^e of badness. Should this reac i my wife’s ears, mercy on mine ! What’s to be d-nie? She alone can assist me ; but how shall I No matter ; to hesitate would be ruin, so not a momeii' must be lost, {tap at door) Bessy love ! how the devil shall I inform her ? and poor Royland, who imagines I am now pleading his cause for him. How- ever, it cannot be helped. This cursed business will admit of no delay. The difficulty will be to prevail upon her to pay this, and at the same lime to keep lier in ignorance of the red creditor. Should she suspect {dancing attitude) She’s coming ! if she should be i-ut in good humour ! {slugs) ‘‘ Fly from the world, O Bessy, to me You’jl never ” Eider Mrs. Mopus, d. l. Mrs. M. What, Alfred love, sing'ng ? You seem in high spirits! This is as I should wish always to find you. Mopus. And you, Bessy? {gives her chair ; she sits, r. c.) Mrs. M. I was never in better spirits. Everything has succeeded to my desires. »Sir Robert te Is me that Matilda has consented. Mopus. 1 understand she has consented; but now between ourselves {aside) I’ll follow Mitildi s advice and try the effect of a little coaxing, {aloud) Why, Bessy dear, hovr charmingly you’ve done your hair to-day. MAK^MED FOB MONEY. Si M, Do you think so, Alfred ? Take a chair, love, and sit by me. Mopus. Gad, she’s in such a chnrming good humour, I’d better be^in with my own affairs first. Mrs. M. Well, Alfreri love, what between ourselves ? Mopus, We have been so tonnen ed by Visitors to-day we’ve scarcely had a moment’s chat together. Ah, Bessy, If we had been deterred bv the nonsensical gossip of the world Mrs. M. The gosup of the world has no influence on sensible minds ; w^e marr ed for our own ha? piness. Mopus. Of course we d d, and the object for which we uniied our fates how fully have we obtained. What a change in one’s sentiments— in the very character, I may say — is operated by a happy inarria e. In my youth, I was wild, thoughtless, extravagant ; no one knows what money 1 squan lered, what idle debts I contracted. Mrs. M. There is 07ie who knows something about them, Alfred. Mopus. Ah ! Bessy, had it been my fortunate lot to meet y<»u a few years earlier, how many inconsiderate pranks, h )W many follies, incident to youta and inexperience, might have been spare 1 me. Mrs. M. VYell, dear, those are long past ; they are now forgotten like a feverish dream. Yet to say the truth, Alfred, if all yoiir follies were recorded, they would fill a tolerably well sized volume. Mopus. Now, suppose, love — merely supp se — I ha 1 yet matter remaining just sufficient to supply a slight appendix. Mrs. M. How, s r ! Mopus. I mean nothing of recent date, but still forming part of the same interesting period of my biography. Mrs. M. I don’t understand you. Mopus. As you have wittily observed, you know some- thing about what my de ts wer. , but suppose there were still remaining one, only one ? Mrs. M. You need not I 'ok to me for the means of dis- charging it. You have a liberal allowance from me, and from that you might have contrived Moj us. But, my love, I’ve not contrived— IVe no con- trivance. Mrs. M. That is your own fault, sir. Mopus. Very well, Mrs. Mopus ; I won’t reproach you, but 1 shall not soon f irget this unkindness, {tui'ns fro^n her) Mrs. M. Gome, now, is it angry ? Come, look at me, Alfred. Mopus. (aside) I’ll try the effect of a little firmness, (aloud) 32 MAUTITED YOU MONEY. No, madam, Tshnll say no more about it, but quietly await the arrival of the Myrmidons. Mrs. M. How! and are you in danger of — tell me, Alfred, what is the amount of the debt ? Mopus. No, I shall say no more about a p:dtry matter of three hundred guineas. A prison is a ver y pleasant place, I daresay. Mrs. M. a prison ! Say no more, Alfred {qidcHy)^ you shall have the money (co (xingly) — yes, you shall have the money. But don’t it pout with its Bessy. Mopus. {gives his hand) There, then, there’s no resisting you ; you know your power. Mrs. M. And is this really the last ot your debts ? Mopus. Positively the la^r. Mrs. M. Now tell me who is your cred.tor, that I may at onc^^ Mopus. No, don’t ask me that, Bessy. Just give me the cheque and Pll run }»nd Mrs. M. I insist u, on knowing, or Mopus. Well, since you are peremptory I will tell you. The creditor is Mrs. M. Well, quick — who is he ? Mopus. He’s — why, dear, it is not exactly a he, love Mrs. M. {rises) Not exnctly a/i,e ! This is too much, and be the consequences what they may you slia In- t h.ive a guinea. Mopus. Shan’t I ? Mrs. M. No, sir ! Mopus. And is that positively your last word, madam ? Mrs. M. Positively. Mopus. Very well, Mrs. Mopus ; since love is obdurate, I must fly for relief to friendship. Ay, I have friends. I’m not destitute of resources. I am not s ) dependent upon you as you imagine. 1 must run down to the lellow and try to get him to give me a little t me. {rings hell) Mrs. M. What are you ringing for 1 Mopus. To order my cab. Mrs. M. You shall not have it. Mopus. {aside) I m:»y as well revel in a little indepeu- de»nce. {aloud) N ot have my cab, madam 1 Mrs. M. You shall not. Enter John, c. Mopus. John, my cab directly. Mrs. M. John, order it at your jwil ! Mopus. If he doesn’t I’ll break every bone in his body (lihcks John uj}\ c.) Mrs. M. Where do you want to go, sir ? MAKHTED FOTl MONEY. 33 Mopus. It does nr)t concern yon to know, madam ; it’s a matter of business, madam, and women have nothing to do with business. Mks. M. Is it thus you answer me ? I desire you do not quit the hou=e. Mopus. This tyianny is no longer to be endured. Not only I will quit the house, but hang me if ever I enter it again Jezebel ! (ExU, c. ) Mrs. M. Oh, I shall expire — I am dying ! {affects to faint and then starts up) What ! and has he really gone ? Am I awake ? He who has hitherto been so docile, so submissive, to treat me thus ! Me (rinqs bell violently) who have ever been the tendet’est of wives, (rings) The mildest, (rings) the most gentle — Will the wretches let me die here aT alone? (enter Simpkins, c.l.) So, Mrs. Minx, you are come at last! Where is Mr. Mopus ? Is he gone out ? Sim. Oh ! ma^am, don’t ask me ! such a sc ne as it was ! Mrs. M. What does the girl meaii ? Speak ! Sim. Oh. ma’am, my master had scarcely passed the street door when two men, who had been a long time lurking about, tapped him on the shoulder, said something about arrest, and away they hurried him across the squar e Mrs. M. Oh, my poor dear Alfred! and ’i is my cjuelty has occasioned this ! And I have no frienil hei e to assist, to counsel me. Where is my intended son-in -law, Sir Robert ? Sim. Below in the parlour, ma’am, but he can’t move. The poor old gentleman saw the whole proceeding, and it gave him such a turn that he was seized with a fit of the cramp, Mrs. M Will no one come to my assistance ? Enter Bob, c. , and Matilda, b. Mat. We are here, mamma. U >3. Don’t be alarmed, madam ; speak but the word and 1 will fi to the Antipodes to serve you. (aside) A lucky event for me so I will make the most of it. Mrs. M Oh, sir, how shall I thank you? You have hoard of this dreadful occurrence ? Bob. I was a witness to it. Poor Mopus ! as they hurried him awaj^, tears of tenderness sta ted in h s eyes, and press- ing my hand he ex laimed, ^‘My Bessy is unkind, so welcome now my dungeon ! ^’ i Mrs. M. a dungeon ! Prav accompany me, Mr, Royland ; my jewels, my last g linea — all shall be his. Bob. Fortunately Sir Robert’s carriage is^at the door ; allow me to attend you and I’ll answer for his instantaneous release. Mrs. M. You are a friend indeed, Mr. Royland ! Alfred ! your Bessy is coming to voii. (Exeunt, 0.) ACT DROP DBSCBNDS QUICKLY MARRIED FOR MONEY, 8 ^ ACT IIL Scene. — 'Enter Bob, leading in Mopus, tip9y, Mopus. (sings) Then, for this reason, And for a season, Let us be merry Before we go. ” Bob. Hush ! hush ! they must not see you so merryo Mopus. Merry ! I have not been so merry for many a day. Master ! and doing the honours of mv own table ! Lots of champagne ! Meetiui so many old acquaintances, and in that place, too, it was the ‘‘form and cause conjoined.” Hang me if I should have relished their society half so well anywhere else ; it reminded me of former times. Bob. Well I don’t profess to be enchanted ; the sight of those iron bars Mopus. Sink the iron bj>rs ! They are not placed there to prevent a jolly set of fellows from netting out, man. Tiiey are the guardians of our social privacy, and hinder dull dogs from getting in. But I say, Bob, how go on your nego- tiations with Matilda ? Bob., Ah ! don’t talk of that ! But if I had not been more zeaL'US in your servi e than I have found you in mine Mopus. You don’t know what, I should have done for you, had it not been for tins incerruption. But, I say — Ha ! ha ! ha ! — where is the Dragon of VVantley ? Bob. The what? Mopus. How did my wife take the news of my ca]'>tivity ? Bob. Shocked and grieved, as you may suppose. She drove with me to you ; but the sight of the bars, and rhe idea of your sufferings were too much for her nerves ; so she came home home again and left the care of your libera- tion to me, signed a blank cheque on her banker, and Mopus. A blank cheque ! Give it to me ! I’ll fill it up for a thousand. She never gave me a blank cheque in all her life. Bob. Nonsense ! But come, get to your room, and put yourself to rights before you present yourself to the ladies. Mopus. Not a bit of it ! I’m ready to face the Dragon of W^ntley — let her come on ! Bob. No, no ! Come, come 1 I hear them ! (drags him C. R.) MARRIED FOR MO:NEY. 35 Fnter Matilda and Simpkins, d. r. Mat. Come home alone, do you say ? Sim Alone, miss, and crying, poor old lady, as if her heart ^'ould break. Mat. Wh^re then can Robert be ? and poor Mr. Mopiis * Sim. Poor Mr. Mopus indt ed ! Poor Mrs. Mopus ! Her fate should serve you as a warning, miss. You see v\hat it is to marry a young man ; but Sir Robert now, a respectable, well-behaved old gentleman Mat. Don’t speak of him. I was beginning to think well of him, but since I’ve discov- red the fatal mistake his very name is odious to me. What road, what road am 1 to take, Simpkins ? Sim. Why the high North road, as I told you before. Mat. Simpkins ! (signals her to keep quiet) Well, Robert ! (enter Bob, c. r.) Where is Mr. Mopus ? Bob. He’ll be here directly. Mat. I am delighted at that, poor fellow ! Imprisonment must be so dreadful ; didn’t you find him wretchedly dejected 1 Bob. Don’t reiiiind me of it. But tell me, where’s your motile r ? Sim. She’s waiting in great anxiety. Ah, here &he is. Enter MpwS. Mopus, d. l. Mrs. M. Where is he ? Where is he ? How is this, Mr. Royland ? Haven’t you brought my Alfred with you ? Bob. Why, ma’am, (aside) What the devil shall i say as an excuse ? (aloud) I have not positively brought him with me ; but he will not be long absent; there are certain little forms to go through on such occasions, and he is engaged in their fulfilment. Mrs. M. How can I thank you, sir ? But pardon the in- quiries of an anxious wife. Tell me, how did you find him ] Mat. Pray, mamma, don’t ask ! Mr. Royland can’t bear to be lemincled of it. Mrs. M. Poor Alfred ! sad, gloomy, melancholy. Bob. Ah, ma’am, you have seen tho picture of Ugolino in his cell, or of Baron Trenk and his spider ? Mrs. M. And I to be the cruel cause of this, (loud knocking at D.) Ha, ’tis he ! Bob. (aside) I shall be much astonished, then. Mrs. M. Matilda, my love, supjiort me, (crosses, c. L.)Mr. Royland, he is iest< red tome! This poor heart of minel Iuld call honest measure LO.da^\ Mrs. M. Oh, sir, I never have been, never can be happy with him. When he i^ absent, I am uneasy, jealous ; when present, his ill-concealed impatience of restrain tells me but too distinctly that his fueling is centred — n/tii me. Sir R. I came to speak with you upon a very different subject ; but you have drawn so flattering a picture of what may reasonably be expected from a marriage between parties whose ages are not exactly within a year or two of each other. Mrs. M. Yours is a very different case. Besides, sir, it seems we have been made the dupes of Mr. Mopus and this friend of liis. Sir R. So I had partly discovered. Mrs. M : But they shall not enjoy their i magi rmry triumph long — Matilda shall be yours ! W ^ have settled t!!at p unt between ourselves, and Mr. Mopus shall y et see who is mi tress. ^ Mopus. (without, l.) Out of the house, i?ascal ! Mrs. M!. What do .1 hear ? EnUr Mopub. Mopus. Dare to tell m * I’m not his master ! Things have come to a pretty pass, upon my word, Mrs. M. (c.) Air, Mopus, if you’ve not yet recovert d your sens-s, you had better retire. Mopus. I am qu te sober now —as sober as I ever wish t > be. Some of Simpkins’ good coffee has s -t me to ri Jits, but I’ll discharge every one of the scoundrels I’ll reform the whole establishment. Mrs. M. (r.) You forget, sir, you are in my house. Mopus. Your house, Bessy I 'Ve 1 Jf^hous -, wy serv ants, my carriages, my fortune. 'I'he house is mine and every- thing in it — (with a sigh) — wife included. Mrs. M. Incredible insolence ! Yours ? Mopus. Mine ! mine ! mine ! Tillt is hour the inventory of my wealth, like a magic writing, presented a mere blank. I have steeped it in champagne, and* now ev rv item of it is clear, apparent, legible, palpable, and may the devil encumber the property with ten wives more if I don’t enjoy it. 42 MARRIED P'OR MONEY. Mrs. M. Oh ! I >hall faint ! (is going to faint ; Sir Robert attempts to support her, Mopus prevents liioi) Mopus. You shan’t ; ’tis the old resource I know, but henceforth I’ll allow no fainting in my house ; so faint at your peril, for not a chair of mine shall you have to support you, not one of my servants shall dare come'^to your assis- tance. Ay, madam, my servants ! f(^r I’ll re-model the i ouse- h »ld, 1 11 hiive a fresh set ; not one of these shall remain here another day, not one of them — only Simpkins, for Simpkins is a pretty girl and makes good coffee. Sir K. (aside) A promi>in-_r example for me. Mrs. M. Ungrateful monster ! this, and at the very moment when I have restored you to liberty. Mopus. That s it, my dear^ I’m shewing you that I know how to use it. Mrs M. This may be very well, sir, but let me remind you that I am still mistress here. Mopus. You shallhe mistress, my gentle Bessy ; you ^hall control the cook, govern t]y- housemaids, and take the iie.id of my table, whenever I give dinners t ) my old friends and a‘«sociates, as I intend to do three times a week the s ason through. You shall be mistress but I’ll be master. More ti'an this no good wife should desire, nor more than t is should any prudent husband grant Mrs. M. I can bear it no longer. Was it to place a tyrant near me I raised you from penury to riot in the sudden luxuries of wealth ? Na)^ taught you the unknown comforts of a home? Since I must speak, tell me, sir, but for my fortune, what had you now been ? Mopus. Fortune breathe but that w< rd ai'iain, and mav my name become a by -word and a jest, and my fate »>e re- membered as a warning to-cvery desperate and undone dandy, but I’ll spend one-half the accursed, the deaily pur- chased fortune in obtaining a divorce and— ha, ha, ha !— I’ll marry Simpkins with the other. Sir K. (at c.) Mr. Mopus, madam, a thousand pardons for interfering. I’ve been an unwilling though an edified spectator of this scene, and I must say Mopus. (ivith mock gravity) How is this. Sir Robert? la it to me you speak ? me, who am soon to be yuur fatlier-in- law ? Tell me, young man. is this a specimen of the duty and veneration I am to expect from vou ? SirR. Enjoy your jest, you are welcome to it ; ’tis better you should laugh at o d Mellowboy to-day for the fool he might have been, than pity him to-morrow for the fool he would have I een. My dear Mrs. Mopus, from what I liave just witnessed I — I — 1 MARKIED FOR MONEY. 43 Mrs. M. Well, sir? Sir R. Why, ma’am, when I consented to enlist in the ranks of matrimony I had considered only the honours with- out calculating upon tne dangers of the service ; bu^. (looking slyly at them) since I have smelt powder, I own I do not feel much heart to mingle in the fray. Mrs. M. I understand you, sir. You refuse to marry my daughter I Mopus. Refuse Iier ! to be sure he does ; say the word, my venerable Nestor. Say it boldly, my Anted luvian ! What could you expect from marrying a girl animated with the fire of nineteen ? Sir R, Little but the smoke, I fear. Mrs. M. Sir R -bert is master of his own actions. Mopus. Of course he is; he’s old enough, ain’t you, Bobby ? Mrs. M. But my daughter is under my control. She can- not marry without m consent. Mopus. Your consent, my pretty Bessy ? what has your consent to do with the matter ? I repeat that I am master over this house and everything in it. R03 land and Matdda are in tlie house, ergo, I can dispose of them along with the other movables, {enter Lob and Matilda, a) Matilda, my dear, it’s all settled ; you’re to be married at last. Mat. Oh, mamma, and could you be so cruel ? Sir R. Don’t be miserable, Miss Matilda, it is not me you are to make happy. Mrs. M. (to Bob) You have attempted to deceive me, sir, but the attempt si all not succeed. Should Matilda marry contrary to my wishes, she has nothing, not a penny, to expect. Bob. (r.) I wouldn’t give you twopence for your penny ! Herself is the only treasure I have ever coveted. Do you, madam, sanction our union, and you make me rich beyond the wealth of worlds. Sir R. Come, Mrs. Mopus, let me his rival, intercede in their favour. I have a sp cial interest in seeing them united — to that it will come one of these days — and I ’d much rather the young gentleman shuuld marry my bride than my widow. Mrs. M. I will not isten to it, sir. Sir R. Now, consider, Jf aftrr all I sh uld make Matilda Lady Mellowb<»y, by the s ime act I should make you my mother, and I should hold myself bound in duty to call you mamma for the rest of my life. Mrs, M. Oh, the horrid idea ! {crosses toL,) 44 MARRIED FOR MONEY. Mopus. {to Bob) You’ll find this must be my work at last, Bessy, love, Bessy, let me, your Alfred Mrs. M. Sir ! I Mopus. Bessy dear— {whispering, but in a deUr mined tone) consent, my darling, or I swear by the head of every Proctor in the Commons, I’ll sue out a divorce to-morrow. Come, love, can you refuse your Alfred ? Mrs. M. Well, at your entreaty. Take her, Mr. Roy land. (crosses to 0.) Now, Alfred, let us quit London for ever. Mopus. No, not for ever, that would be folly. Why should we shun society ? As Mrs. Mopus with her husband, we have hitherto been the objects of its ridicule and pity ; let us henceforth learn to respect each other, and Mr. Mopus and his wife may claim their due share of respect from the world. Mrs. M 1 perceive my error, and acknowledge it. The wife who is in any way accessory to her husband’s degrada- tion forfeits her own claim to respect — her own best hope of happiness. Mopus. I’m hnrdly sober enough just now, I fear, To play the moralist before y< u here. But every Play a moral’s bound to show. And what ours is I’m going to let you know. Marriage no doubt’s a charming institution Good for the morals and — the constitution ; It’s highly proper, even useful too. Looking at it from a certain point of view ; And he who weds for love, ’tis said (in mirth). Provides himself a Paradise on earth. Whether that’s so or not I wouldn’t swear, My own opinion’s neither here nor there ; But this I’ll say : That I’d advise all here From my sad fate to take a warning cLar ; For though the man who weds for love be carried Straight into Paradise as soon ? s married. Depend upon it there’s no milk and honey For the mean wretch who only weds for money. CURTAIN. r> ■ ^ FBENCH S DESCRIPTIVE LIST. f i PROSCENIUM AND DROP SCENE. — A most effective Proscenium can b® formed by utilizing the paper made for this purpose. Three pieces of wood are merely required, shaped according to this design, and covered with the paper ; the proscenium having the appearance of ligh^ blue puffed satin panels, In gold frames, with Shake- speare medallion in the centre, Puffed satin paper. Light Blue, si‘ze 20 inches by CO inches, per sheet, 25 cts. Imitation Gold Bordering, per sheet, 25c., making 14 feet. Shakespearian MedalHon, 18 inches in diameter, 50 cts. SIO?!ElII\rjE3a — The picture shown above is an illuatra, tion of this scene. It comprises four sheets of paper which are to be pasted in th® centre of any sized canvas that may be requisite for the drop curtain. Size 6X feet by 5 feet. Price $2.50. ® — These comprise three sheets of paper each, and can b® had either for drawing-room or cottage purposes. Size, 7 feet by 3 feet. Price, com- jplete, $1.25 each. ■—This is a parlor window formed with two sheets of paper, and could be made practicable to shde up and down. The introduction of curtains each side would make it very effective. Size, 3 feet by 4}^ feet. Price. $1.00, complete. .—Consisting of four sheets of paper, representing a window containing four large ornamental frosted glass panes with colored glass around. Size 6}^ feet high by 5 feet. Price $1.50. I H ^El I® TT 1 CZI 3ES ■ — This is also made with two sheets of paper. The fire is lighted, but should this not be required a fire-paper can be hung over it. It ^ill be found most useful in many farces wherein a character has to climb up a chim- ney, and many plays where a fireplace is indispensable. By purchasing a door, win- jft>w, and fireplace an ordinary room scene could easily be constructed with the addi- ^u of some wall-paper. Size, 3 feet by 4}^ feet. Priee, complete, $1.25. FRENCH'S ACTING EDITIONS, PRICE, IScts. EA.CH. 3SrEW T=> I_I A ~V-g=; April Folly At Sixes and Sevens Barbara Baron’s Wager Betsy Bow Bells Breach of Promise Breaking the Ice Brothers (The) Bubbles By Special Bequest Case for Eviction Chalk and Cheese Charity Circumstances Alter Cases Confederate Spy Compromising Case Crazed Crossed Love Danicheffs Dimity’s Dilemma Dreams Duchess of Bayswater & Co Duty Engaged Equals False Shame Fennel First Mate For the Old Love’s Sake G-arden Party Garrick (Muskerry) George Geith Gentle Gertrude Buil Girl Graduate Girls (The) Glimpse of Paradise Gretchen Harvest Home His Own Guest Hook and Eye In Honor Bound Iron Master (The) Lady Fortune Linked by Love Long Odds Love Game Lyrical Lover Major and Minor Man Proposes ( Grundy) Marble Arch Melting Moments Meriy Meeting Mariner’s Keturn Miser Month After Date My Friend Jarlet My Little Girl My Lord in Livery Nearly Seven Nearly Severed Nettle Not Such a Fool, etc. Obliging His Landlady Off Duty Old Cronies On the Brink Once Again Once a Week Open Gate Overland Route Palmistry Petticoat Perfidy Pity Playmates Prompter’s Box Postscript Progress Punch Ruined by Drink Railway Adventure Row in the House Sample vs. Pattern Saved Second Thoughts Senior Wrangles Sins of the Fathers Sixpenny Tclegi-am Sour Grapes Spur of the Moment Steeple Jack Step Sister Sunny Side Sunset Sunshine Taken by Storm Tears; Idle Tears That Dreadful Doctor The Nightingale Thorough Base Through the Fire Tom Pinch True Colors Two Pros Which Why Women Weep Woman’s Wrongs Written in Sand Yellow Roses Yeoman’s Service GUIDE TO SELECTING PLAYS; Price 25 Cents. Showing how to select Farces, Comedies, Dramas, for Private or Public Performance; giving the Number of Characters, the Author’s Name, the Scenery Costumes, Time in Representation, and the Plot nr Advice, connected with 1,600 Pieces. FRENCH’S PARLOR COMEDIES. A new series of selected plays for Amateurs. Ten numbers. Price, 15 Cents each. Guide to Selecting Playsi Hints on Costume, Scenery to Fit any Stage, Jarley’s Wax Works, Ethiopian Plays, Charades, Amateur’s Guide, Guide to the Stage. O.^T^11jOC3-XJE seistt T. H. FRETSrOin 28 West 23d St., Kew York. ijj'J'l VERSITY of ILLINOIS. 3 0112 04735941 fi