tinctly a quarrel, but nothing wherefore: Oh, that men should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains that we should with joy, pleasance, revel, and applause, transform ourselves into beasts!

Iago. Why, but you are now well enough: how came you thus recovered?

Cass. It has pleased the devil Drunkenness, to give place to the devil Wrath. One imperfection shows me another, to make me frankly despise myself.

Iago. Come: you are too severe a moraler. As the time, place, and the condition of this country stands, I could heartily wish this had not befallen; but since it is as it is, mend it for your own good.

Cass. I will ask him for my place again: he shall tell me I am a drunkard! Had I as many mouths as Hydra, such an answer would stop them all. To be now a sensible man, by and by a fool, and presently a beast!-Every inordinate cup is unblessed, and the ingredient is a devil.

Iago. Come: come: good wine is a good familiar creature, if it be well used: exclaim no more against it ;—and, good lieutenant, I think you think I love you?

Cass. I have well approved it, sir :—I drunk!

Iago. You, or any man living, may be drunk some time, man! I tell you what you shall do. Our general's wife is now the general: confess yourself freely to her: importune her help to put you in your place again. She is of so free, so kind, so apt, so blessed a disposition, she holds it a vice in her goodness, not to do more than she is requested. This broken joint between you and her husband entreat her to splinter; and my fortune against any lay worth naming, this crack of your love shall grow stronger than it was before.

ness.

Cass. You advise me well.

Iago. I protest, in the sincerity of love and honest kind

Cass. I think it freely; and betimes in the morning, I will beseech the virtuous Desdemona to undertake for me.

Iago. You are in the right. Good night, lieutenant.
Cass. Good night, honest Iago.

CCXVII.-THE LETTER.

LOVER.

SQUIRE EGAN, and his new Irish servant, ANDY.

Squire. Well, Andy: you went to the post-office, as I ordered you?

Andy. Yis, sir.

S. Well, what did you find?

A. A most imperthinent fellow, indade, sir.

S. How so?

A. Says I, as dacent like as a genthleman, "I want a letther, sir, if you plase." "Who do you want it for?" said the posth-masther as ye call him. "I want a letther, sir, if you plase," said I. "And whom do you want it for?" said he again. "And what's that to you?" said I. S. You blockhead, what did he say to that?

A. He laughed at me, sir, and said he could not tell what letther to give me unless I tould him the direction. S. Well, you told him then, did you? A. "The directions I got," said I, ther here-that's the directions."

66 was to get a let"Who gave you the

directions?" says he. "The masther," said I. "And

who's your masther?" said he.

o' yours'?" said I.

"What consarn is that

S. Did he break your head, then?

A. No, sir. "Why, you stupid rascal," said he, "if you don't tell me his name, how can I give you his letther?" "You could give it if you liked," said I: "only you are fond of axing impident questions, because you think I'm simple." "Get out o' this!" said he. "Your masther must be as great a goose as yourself, to send such a missinger."

S. Well, how did you save my honor, Andy?

A. "Bad luck to your impidence!" said I. "Is it

"Have

Squire Egan you dare to say goose to?" "O, Squire Egan's your masther?" said he. "Yis," says I. "Yis," says I. you any thing to say agin it?"

S. You got the letter, then, did you?

A. "Here's a letther for the Squire," says he. "You are to pay me eleven pence posthage." "What 'ud I pay 'leven pence for?" said I. "For posthage," says he. "Didn't I see you give that gentleman a letther for fourpence, this blessed minit ?" said I: "and a bigger letther than this? Do you think I'm a fool ? " says I. "Here's a fourpence for you-and give me the letther."

S. I wonder he did not break your skull, and let some light into it.

A. "Go along, you stupid thafe!" says he, because I would not let him chate your honor.

S. Well, well give me the letter.

A. I haven't it, sir. He wouldn't give it to me, sir.
S. Who wouldn't give it to you ?

A. That old chate beyent in the town.

S. Didn't you pay him what he asked?

A. Arrah, sir, why would I let you be chated, when he was selling them before my face for fourpence apace?

S. Go back, you scoundrel, or I'll horsewhip you! A. He'll murther me, if I say another word to him about the letther: he swore he would.

S. I'll do it, if he don't, if you are not back in less than half an hour. [Exit.]

A. O that the like of me should be murthered for defending the charrackther of my masther! It's not I'll go to dale with that bloody chate again. I'll off to Dublin, and let the letther rot on his dirty hands, bad luck to him!

CCXVIII. THE WILL.

Characters.-SWIPES, a brewer: CURRIE, a saddler: FRANK MILLINGTON, and SQUIRE Drawl.

Swipes. A sober occasion, this, brother Currie. Who would have thought the old lady was so near her end?

Currie. Ah! we must all die, brother Swipes; and those who live longest, outlive the most.

Swipes. True, true; but since we must die and leave our earthly possessions, it is well that the law takes such good care of us. Had the old lady her senses when she departed?

Cur. Perfectly, perfectly. Squire Drawl told me she read every word of the will aloud, and never signed her name better.

Swipes. Had you any hint from the Squire, what disposition she made of her property?

Cur. Not a whisper: the Squire is as close as an underground tomb: but one of the witnesses hinted to me, that she had cut off her graceless nephew, Frank, without a shilling.

Swipes. Has she, good soul, has she? You know I come in, then, in right of my wife.

Cur. And I in my own right; and this is no doubt the reason why we have been called to hear the reading of the will. Squire Drawl knows how things should be done, though he is as air-tight as one of your beer-barrels. But here comes the young reprobate. He must be present, as a matter of course, you know. [Enter FRANK MILLINGTON.] Your servant, young gentleman. So your benefactress has left you, at last.

Swipes. It is a painful thing to part with old and good friends, Mr. Millington.

Frank. It is so, sir; but I could bear her loss better, had I not so often been ungrateful for her kindness. She was my only friend, and I knew not her value.

Cur. It is too late to repent, Master Millington. You will now have a chance to earn your own bread.

Swipes. Ay, ay, by the sweat of your brow, as better people are obliged to. You would make a fine brewer's boy, if you were not too old.

Cur. Ay, or a saddler's lackey, if held with a tight rein.

Frank. Gentlemen, your remarks imply that my aunt has treated me as I deserved. I am above your insults, and only hope you will bear your fortune as modestly, as I shall mine submissively. I shall retire. [Going: he meets SQUIRE DRAWL.]

Squire. Stop, stop, young man. We must have your presence. Good morning, gentlemen: you are early on the ground.

Cur. I hope the Squire is well to-day.

Squire. Pretty comfortable, for an invalid.

Swipes. I trust the damp air has not affected your lungs again.

Squire. No, I believe not. But since the heirs at law are all convened, I shall now proceed to open the last will and testament of your deceased relative, according to law.

Swipes. [While the Squire is breaking the seal.] It is a trying thing to leave all one's possessions, Squire, in this

manner.

Cur. It really makes me feel melancholy, when I look round and see every thing but the venerable owner of these goods. Well did the Preacher say, "All is vanity."

Squire. Please to be seated, gentlemen. [He puts on his spectacles, and begins to read slowly.] "Imprimis: whereas my nephew, Francis Millington, by his disobedience and ungrateful conduct, has shown himself unworthy of my bounty, and incapable of managing my large estate, I do hereby give and bequeath all my houses, farms, stocks, bonds, moneys, and property, both personal and real, to my dear cousins, Samuel Swipes, of Malt street, brewer, and Christopher Currie, of Fly-Court, saddler" [The Squire takes off his spectacles, to wipe them.]

Swipes. Generous creature! loved her.

Kind soul! I always

; and, brother

Cur. She was good, she was kind Swipes, when we divide, I think I'll take the mansion

house.