maddened with the feeling that some happier mortal will obtain that dear hand, and will rejoice in the possession of those charms which I had too fondly, too credulously, imagined as certain to be mine.

(Takes out his handkerchief, and covers his face; CLEMENTINA also puts her handkerchief to her face and weeps. MRS. JELLYBAGS nods her head ironically.)

Clem. Edward!

Edw. My dear, dear Clementina!

Clem. You won't have me?

Fdw. My honour forbids it. If you knew my feelings-how this poor heart is racked!

Clem. Don't leave me, Edward. Did you not say that for richer or for poorer, for better or for worse, you would be mine, till death did us part?

Edw. Did I?

Clem. You know you did, Edward.

Edw. It's astonishing how much nonsense we talk when in love. My dearest Clementina, let us be rational. We are almost without a sixpence. There is an old adage, that, when poverty comes in at the door, love flies out of the window. Shall I then make you miserable! No, no! Hear me, Clementina. I will be generous. I now absolve you from all your vows. You are free. Should the time ever come that prosperity shine upon me, and I find that I have sufficient for both of us, of that dross which I despise, then will I return, and should my Clementina not have entered into any other engagement, throw my fortune and my person at her feet. Till then, dearest Clementina, farewell! Clem. (sinking into a chair, sobbing.) Cruel Edward! heart will break!

Oh, my

Edw. I can bear it myself no longer. Farewell! farewell! [Exit. Jel. (coming forward.) Well, this is some comfort. (To CLEMENTINA.) Did not I tell you, Miss, that if you did not change your mind, others might?

Clem. Leave me, leave me.

Jel. No, I shan't; I have as good a right here as you, at all events. I shall stay, Miss.

Clem. (rising.) Stay then-but I shall not. Oh, Edward! Edward! [Exit, weeping.

Jel. (alone.) Well, I really thought I should have burst-to be forced not to allow people to suppose that I cared, when I should like to tear the old wretch out of his coffin to beat him. His wardrobe! If people knew his wardrobe as well as I do, who have been patching at it this last ten years—not a shirt or a stocking that would fetch sixpence! and as for his other garments, why, a Jew would hardly put them into his bag! (Crying.) Oh dear! oh dear! After all, I'm just like Miss Clementina; for Sergeant O'Callaghan, when he knows all this, will as surely walk off without beat of drum, as did Mr. Edward-and that too with all the money I have lent him. Oh these men! these men !-whether they are living or dying there is nothing in them but treachery and disappointment! When they pretend to be in love, they only are trying for your money, and e'en when they make their wills, they leave to those behind them nothing but ill-will!

[Exit, crying, off the stage, as the curtain falls.

BETTER NEVER THAN LATE:.

A DRAMATIC SKETCH.

OLD HUNKSLEY.

Characters.

MRS. WHIMPERLY,his Housekeeper. AUGUSTUS GRIPPER, his Nephew. GABBLEBORE, an Attorney.

Scene: MR. HUNKSLEY'S Bed-room. HUNKSLEY in bed, and sleeping. GRIPPER and MRS. WHIMPERLY seated at the bedside. They come forward.

Grip. What think you of my poor dear uncle now, Mrs. Whimperly?

Mrs. W. That he'll not live through the night, Mr. Gripper, notwithstanding all Mr. Humbugpuff, whom you called in to attend him, says to the contrary.

Grip. Dr. Homeopath, you would say, Mrs. Whimperly.

Mrs. W. Well, well, Sir; Humbugpuff or Homopuff, 'tis all one: you know who it is I mean. I'm sure that what he prescribes for poor Mr. Hunksley is enough to kill a horse.

Grip. How, Mrs. Whimperly!

Mrs. W. Why, by starvation, Sir. A tea-cup full of chicken-broth, made of the leg of a chicken boiled in three gallons of water till it is reduced to a quart! Pretty nourishment, truly! And, then, for medicine! The three-million-two-hundred-and-thirteen-thousandth part of a grain of magnesia perfectly dissolved in two gallons of distilled water-one pint of that to be boiled down to a quarter-and five drops of that to be given to the patient in a tea spoonfull of skimmed milk! Why, Sir, you couldn't cure a giant with such stuff as that; much less your poor uncle, who, to my humble thinking, wants something a leetle strong at least, only just to keep soul and body together.

Grip. You don't understand the principle of the system: like a pretty woman, its strength is in its weakness.

Mrs. W. That may be all very fine, Sir; but I can tell Dr. Humbugpuff

Grip. Homeopath, if you please, Mrs. Whimperly.

Mrs. W. Well; Homopuff, since you are so particular about it. I say, I can tell him I have tried his system, and it won't do. After sitting up three nights together, I thought a glass of good comfortable punch would do me good. So I took a large rummer of water, put into it one tiny lump of sugar, a slight idea of lemon, six drops of rum and six of brandy. But, Lord! it wasn't fit to drink; so I threw it away and tried again-still keeping to his system. Now, as I hope to be saved, Sir, what I tell you is true: the less rum and brandy I put into it, the weaker was the punch! So I made a good jorum, just as my poor, dear, departed husband used to make it for me, and I was all the better for it.

Grip. As to punch, Mrs. Whimperly, why-that is neither here nor there. But the basis of the doctor's system, which is—in short-a system is that the less you

Mrs. W. I wish from the bottom of my soul, then, the doctor had

regulated his visits according to his system; for certain I am that the less my poor master had seen of him the better he would have been

for it.

Grip. Well, well, my good Mrs. Whimperly; I'm sure you will bear witness that, in dismissing the hum-drum, old-routine doctor, Doctor Steadyman, and calling in the ingenious and fashionable Doctor Homeopath, I did what I thought was best for my poor uncle.

Mrs. W. I'll bear witness I have often heard you say so, Mr. Gripper. But Doctor Steadyman was curing him, and

Grip. Aye; but too fast, Mrs. Whimperly as Doctor Homeopath says, faster than his constitution could bear it.

Mrs. W. May be, Sir, may be: but I'm certain his constitution doesn't bear killing half so well.

Grip. Ah! I wish his undutiful son, my cousin, had been where he ought to have been; and then this painful responsibility had not devolved upon me.

Mrs. W. Poor young master! poor Captain Hunksley! To be sure it was very wrong of him to go into the army against his father's commands. Being an only child, too! his father a widower, and

Grip. And I his nearest living relative. I-I say, my dear Mrs. Whimperly; you have often heard the poor old gentleman declare his determination to disinherit the captain-to cut him off with a shilling. Mrs. W. In his anger, Sir, often.

Grip. And-and-yes, I am sure, too, you have as often heard him say that he intended to give me the bulk of his property-that is to say, reserving a portion for you, whose attention to him, for so many years, well deserves such a reward.

Mrs. W. Often, aye, very often

Grip, Good Mrs. Whimperly.

Mrs. W. Very often indeed, I may say, when he has lamented that his son was not at his bedside, where you were, he has said that he should remember you for all your goodness to him. As for myself, Sir, what I have done I have been paid for; and should I be considered worthy of any little remembrance beyond that, his son, the dear, dear captain, will not be unmindful of me.

Grip. 'Tis strange that, till last night, the old gentleman could never be prevailed upon to make a will.

Mrs. W. Why, Sir, 'tis a heart-breaking thing, after all, to disinherit an only child; and since it is his fixed determination to do so-as you say he has often declared to you, in private, that it is

-a will he

must make, or the captain must inherit. At least so I am told, Sir. Grip. "Tis but too I say, that's true, Mrs. Whimperly. (Looking at his watch.) 'Tis past the time I appointed the attorney to be here. Mrs. W. Have you called in an attorney of your own, as well as a doctor, Mr. Gripper?

Grip. No-no; last night, when I succeeded in obtaining from Mr. Hunksley his consent to make his will, he insisted that it should be drawn by none but his own attorney, that chattering old twaddle, Mr. Gabblebore.

Mrs. W. (aside). Well, that's some comfort. He will take care that the captain shall not be left quite destitute, at any rate. Poor dear young gentleman! So good, so kind, so everything which even the hardest father could desire, save that one act of disobedience.

Hunksley. (wakes, and speaks in a faint voice.) My son-Charles -you are there-come to me.

Grip. (approaching the bedside.) My dear uncle-bethink yourself -he is away-far away. 'Tis I who am at your side: your nephew, Augustus Gripper.

Hunks. True, my dear boy-I-I did but dream.-Quick-where is Gabblebore? I feel I am sinking fast.

Grip. (to Mrs. WHIMPERLY.) Haste-haste-not a moment is to be lost-send for him.

Mrs. W. The doctor, Sir?

Grip. Confusion! No! the attorney.-Hark! A knock! (looking out at window.) 'Tis he. (Draws a table to the bedside, and hastil arranges materials for writing.) Enter GABBLEBORE. Throughout the scene he is exceedingly deliberate both in speech and action.

Gab. Mrs. Whimperly, how do you do? Mr. Gripper, how do you do? And how is my good old friend, Mr. Hunksley?

Grip. At the point of death, I fear. You are much past the time appointed, Sir. You are late-a few minutes longer and you might have been too late.

Gab. "Better late than never," my young friend; "better late than never." I'll tell you a curious little anecdote in illustration of that fine old proverb. About thirty years ago-ah! me; it is nearer thirty-five! -I was sent for to make the will of old Ozias Bottleby-Ozias? No ―let me see—it was Humphr-No; it was Ozias; and I recollect it by a curious little circumstance. I

Grip. (impatiently.) Pray, Sir, take your seat and proceed to busi

ness.

Gab. Ah! To draw the will of my poor old friend, (approaches the bedside and takes his seat.) Well, my old friend Hunksley; how do you find yourself?

Hunks. (faintly.) Badly-badly.

Gab. Perhaps you don't feel strong enough to go through this little affair now? I'll come again to-morrow-or next day-when you may be a little better.

Grip. (in a whisper to GABBLEBORE.) Are you mad? To-morrow! Why, he can't live an hour.

Well-now.

Gab. Ah! me!-Ah! me! I fear indeed it is so. (takes out his spectacles and holds them up to the light.) My good Mrs. Whimperly, have you such a thing about you as a little bit of wash-leather, just to wipe my spectacles with? I generally carry a bit in my pocket, about the size of a crown-piece, or so; but to-day I have left it at home. It makes good the old saying, Mrs. Whimperly, that "when the

Grip. (snatches the spectacles from him, and, having wiped them, returns them.) There, Sir, there. Now for the will, or we may be too

late.

Gab. "Better late than never," as I said before. And that reminds me of what I was going to tell you about poor Ozias Bottleby. You must know that

Grip. Will you proceed with your work, Sir, or shall I send for some other attorney?

y

Gab. Don't be impatient, young gentleman: all in good time. However; business first-pleasure afterwards. (Having carefully mended a pen, and arranged his papers, he turns towards HUNKSLEY.) Now, my good friend, we'll to it. Pity you didn't follow my advice and make your will when you were in health; in which case you wouldn't have been at the trouble of doing it now. But it was so with his father before him, Mr. Gripper: the very thought of will-making would frighten him out of his wits. My poor departed father used to say, "The lawyer before the doctor, or the coffin-maker may take first turn :" meaning thereby, Mr. Gripper, that-(At a sign of impatience from GRIPPER.) Aye-true-to business. (He reads as he writes.)—“ I

Grip. (aside.) At length he is at his work.

Gab. Plague on it! there's a hair in my pen. Did you ever see such an I as it has made me make, Mr. Gripper?-We'll begin again.-" I, Timothy" Apropos to that, my dear friend; have you any news lately of your son, Charles?

Grip. (aside.) Confusion to the old dotard!

Hunks. (faintly.) Don't mention him-don't mention him.

Grip. (to GABBLEBORE.) Mark that, Mr. Gabblebore, mark that.
Hunks. My nephew, there he has been as a son to me.
Grip. And mark that too.

Gab. Aye; you have been kind to your uncle, Mr. Gripper. That reminds me of poor Munden. You are too young to remember much of him. When he was down in these parts he used to act Nip-NipIt was Nip-something. Let me see-Nipwhistle?-no-Nipskin ?No-Nip-Nipperkin? Aye, Nipperkin; that was it. (During this speech GRIPPER walks about the room, and exhibits signs of extreme impatience.) Well; I remember his manner of saying " Be kind to your uncle, and lend me your coat," used to set the house in a roar of laughter. Since his time I have seen

Grip. Mr. Gabblebore-Mr. Gabblebore-don't you perceive that the old man is sinking fast? Be quick, or all will be over.

Gab. True; true. Now, then.

Grip. (aside.) At last.

Gab. (writes.) "I, Timothy Ephraim-" (To HUNKSLEY.) What are you shaking your head at, my dear friend?

Hunk. (faintly.) Timothy Hezekiah.

I'll

Gab. Aye, so it is, so it is. Ephraim was his father's name. begin it all over again. (Takes a fresh sheet of paper and writes; reading at the same time. "I, Timothy Hezekiah Hunksley, being of sound mind, do—" (Turns to GRIPPER.) You can't remember his father. I do. He used to wear a tail-wig, without powder-an uncommon thing in those days. Well; I being a boy at that time, full of fun and frolic," Tim," says 1, to my poor friend here (who was a boy too, of about my age, or, it might be, a year older), "Tim," says I, "let us get a bit of packthread and tie it to your father's tail,—whilst he's asleep." For I ought to have told you that he was taking his afternoon's nap in his easy chair.-You ought to remember that chair, Mrs. Whimperly. It was the black leather chair with a high back, which he

Mrs. W. This is no time to think of such trifles, Sir.

Gab. Well, perhaps not; yet one can't control one's memory, you know.