MONEY.

ACT I.

SCENE I.

A drawing-room in SIR JOHN VESEY's house; folding-doors at the back, which open on another drawing-room. To the right, a table, with newspapers, books, &c.; to the left, a sofa writing-table.

SIR JOHN, GEORGINA.

SIR JOHN (reading a letter edged with black). YES, he says at two precisely. "Dear Sir John, as since the death of my sainted Maria,"-Hum!-that's his wife; she made him a martyr, and now he makes her a saint!

GEORGINA.

Well, as since her death ?

SIR JOHN (reading).

"I have been living in chambers, where I cannot so well invite ladies, you will allow me to bring Mr. Sharp, the lawyer, to read the will of the late Mr. Mordaunt (to which I am appointed executor) at your house-your daughter being the nearest relation. I shall be with you at two precisely.--Henry Graves."

GEORGINA.

And you really feel sure that poor Mr. Mordaunt has made me his heiress?

SIR JOHN.

Ay, the richest heiress in England. Can you doubt it? Are you not his nearest relation? Niece by your poor mother, his own sister. All the time he was making this enormous fortune in India did we ever miss sending him little reminiscences of our disinterested affection? When he was last in England, and you only so high, was not my house

B

his home? Didn't I get a surfeit out of complaisance to his execrable curries and pillaws? Didn't he smoke his hookah -nasty old-that is, poor dear man-in my best drawingroom? And didn't you make a point of calling him your "handsome uncle ?"-for the excellent creature was as vain as a peacock,

And so ugly!

GEORGINA.

SIR JOHN.

The dear deceased! Alas, he was, indeed ;—like a kangaroo in a jaundice! And if, after all these marks of attachment, you are not his heiress, why then the finest feelings of our nature—the ties of blood-the principles of justice—are implanted in us in vain.

GEORGINA.

Beautiful, sir. Was not that in your last speech at the Freemasons Tavern upon the great Chimney - sweep Question?

SIR JOHN.

You

Clever girl!—what a memory she has! Sit down, Georgy. Upon this most happy-I mean melancholyoccasion, I feel that I may trust you with a secret. see this fine house-our fine servants-our fine plate— our fine dinners: every one thinks Sir John Vesey a rich

Not a bit of it-all humbug, child-all humbug, upon my soul! As you hazard a minnow to hook in a trout, so one guinea thrown out with address is often the best bait for a hundred. There are two rules in life-FIRST, Men are valued not for what they are, but what they seem to be. SECONDLY, If you have no merit or money of your own, you must trade on the merits and money of other people. My father got the title by services in the army, and died penniless. On the strength of his services I got a pension of 400l. a-year; on the strength of 4007. a-year I took credit for 8007.; on the strength of 8007. a-year I married your mother with 10,000l.; on the strength of 10,000. I took a credit for 40,000l., and paid Dicky Gossip three guineas a-week to go about everywhere calling me "Stingy Jack!"

GEORGINA.

Ha ha! A disagreeable nickname.

SIR JOHN.

On the

But a valuable reputation. When a man is called stingy, it is as much as calling him rich; and when a man's called rich, why he's a man universally respected. strength of my respectability I wheedled a constituency, changed my politics, resigned my seat to a minister, who, to a man of such stake in the country, could offer nothing less in return than a patent office of 2000l. a-year. That's the way to succeed in life. Humbug, my dear!-all humbug, upon my soul.

I must say that you

GEORGINA.

SIR JOHN.

Know the world, to be sure. Now, for your fortune,-as I spend more than my income, I can have nothing to leave you; yet, even without counting your uncle, you have always passed for an heiress on the credit of your expectations from the savings of "Stingy Jack." The same with your education. I never grudged anything to make a show -never stuffed your head with histories and homilies; but you draw, you sing, you dance, you walk well into a room; and that's the way young ladies are educated nowadays, in order to become a pride to their parents and a blessing to their husband-that is, when they have caught him. Apropos of a husband: you know we thought of Sir Frederick Blount.

GEORGINA.

Ah, papa, he is charming.

SIR JOHN.

He was so, my dear, before we knew your poor uncle was dead; but an heiress such as you will be should look out for a duke. Where the deuce is Evelyn this morning?

GEORGINA.

I've not seen him, papa. What a strange character he is! -so sarcastic; and yet he can be agreeable.

SIR JOHN.

A humorist-a cynic! one never knows how to take him. My private secretary,-a poor cousin,-has not got a shilling, and yet, hang me if he does not keep us all at a sort of a distance.

GEORGINA.

But why do you take him to live with us, papa, since there's no good to be got by it?

SIR JOHN.

There you are wrong; he has a great deal of talent:

prepares my speeches, writes my pamphlets, looks up my calculations. My Report on the last Commission has got me a great deal of fame, and has put me at the head of the new one. Besides, he is our cousin-he has no salary: kindness to a poor relation always tells well in the world and Benevolence is a useful virtue,-particularly when you can have it for nothing! With our other cousin, Clara, it was different her father thought fit to leave me her guardian, though she had not a penny-a mere useless incumbrance; so, you see, I got my half-sister, Lady Franklin, to take her off my hands.

GEORGINA.

How much longer is Lady Franklin's visit to be?

SIR JOHN.

I don't know, my dear; the longer the better,-for her nusband left her a good deal of money at her own disposal. Ah, here she comes!

SCENE II.

LADY FRANKLIN, CLARA, SIR JOHN, GEORGINA.

SIR JOHN.

My dear sister, we were just loud in your praises. But how's this?-not in mourning?

LADY FRANKLIN.

Why should I go into mourning for a man I never saw?

SIR JOHN.

Still there may be a legacy.

LADY FRANKLIN.

Then there'll be less cause for affliction! Ha! ha! my dear Sir John, I'm one of those who think feelings a kind of property, and never take credit for them upon false pretences.

SIR JOHN (aside).

Very silly woman! But, Clara, I see you are more attentive to the proper decorum; yet you are very, very, VERY distantly connected with the deceased-a third cousin, I think?

CLARA.

Mr. Mordaunt once assisted my father, and these poor robes are all the gratitude I can show him.