A Will and No Will or A Bone for the Lawyers Part 6

_Skin._ O, O, O, I can't bear to be touched.

_Shar._ O, O, Oh! d.a.m.n you, why don't you die then? Harkee Uncle, how long do you intend to live? Ha! I'll allow you but three days, and if you don't die in that time, dead or alive, I'll have you buried. For I am resolved not to stir out of Town 'till I see that Bag of Bones of yours, that old rotten Carca.s.s pailed up between four substantial Elms and laid twenty foot deep in the Earth, and then light lie the Turf, and flourish long Bow. Toll, loll, de doll, ha! ha! Uncle, I'll take care of your safe Pa.s.sage to Pluto, never fear.

_Skin._ Had ever Man such a Reprobate Relation? O the Villain!

(_Enter Mr._ DEATH)

_Shar._ O Mr. Death, your Servant.

_Death._ I am come, Sir, according to your Commands; pray which is the Gentleman I am to take Measure of?

_Shar._ That old Prig in the Chair there.

_Death._ Sir, your humble Servant.

_Skin._ Sir, your Servant. What are your Commands with me?

_Death._ Sir, my Name is Death.

_Skin._ Death!

_Death._ Yes Sir, at your Service, Dismal Death of--pretty well known in this City.

_Skin._ And pray Mr. Dismal Death, what do you want with me?

_Death._ I am come to take measure of you for a Coffin.

_Skin._ What! How!

_Shar._ Yes you old Prig, I ordered him to take Measure of you and Measure he shall take this Instant; do you hear, Mr. Death, measure him, measure the old Prig; I'll hold him fast.

(SHARK _lays hold of him while Mr._ DEATH _measures him_)

_Skin._ Are you going to murder me? You Villain! Here Lucy, Nephew, Murder!

(_Enter_ LUCY _and_ BELLAIR)

_Bell._ How now, what's the matter? Are you going to rob my Uncle?

_Death._ No, no, Sir, we are only taking Measure of him for a Coffin.

_Skin._ O Nephew, they have almost killed me! Here is your cousin b.u.mper come to take Possession of my Fortune whether I will or no; and [he] has brought a frightful Fellow to take Measure of me for a Coffin and Shroud, and swears he will bury me within these three days, dead or alive.

_Bell._ Are not you ashamed, Cousin b.u.mper, to use our Uncle so inhumanly?

_Shar._ d.a.m.n you Prig, have you a mind to resent it? If you have, lug out, and I'll soon dispatch you. (_Draws_)

_Skin._ Was there ever such a b.l.o.o.d.y minded Villain? Dear Nephew, come in with me; I'll do his Business for him in a more effectual way than fighting. I'll swear the Peace against him and make my Will, without leaving him a Shilling. (_Exit with Bellair_)

_Shar._ So far the Plow speeds. I think we have done Mr. b.u.mper's Business for him. That Obstacle is pretty well removed--We have nothing to do now but to provide for his Sister the Widow, and then to contrive some means to frighten the old Fellow into a Will in favour of my Master.

_Lucy._ Ay, Shark, that is the chiefest Difficulty, the Masterpiece, and unless you accomplish that you do nothing.

_Shar._ I know it, my Dear; here, here (_pointing to his head_), here, here--the Embryo is here, and will come forth perfect in less than ten Minutes. Why Lucy, I have a Genius to Deceit, and wanted nothing but an Opportunity to shew it.

_Lucy._ I think you have a very fair one now.

_Shar._ I have so, and never fear, Girl, I'll engage I make a proper use of it. Lord, how many great Men have been lost for want of being thrown into a proper light? On my Conscience, had I been bred in a Court, I believe I should have made as great a Figure as ever Cromwell did, for

_The Stateman's Skill like mine is all Deceit_ _What's Policy in him--in me's a Cheat._ _t.i.tles and Wealth reward his n.o.ble Art,_ _Cudgels and Bruises mine--sometimes a Cart._ _Twas, is and will he, to the End of Time,_ _That Poverty not Fraud creates the Crime._

(_Exeunt_)

ACT II

(_Enter_ BELLAIR _and_ LUCY)

_Bell._ What Coach was that stopt at the Door?

_Lucy._ My Lady Lovewealth's, Sir. I told her Miss Harriet was gone home, and that my Master was gone out in a Chair to some of his Lawyers, for I could not let her see Sir Isaac.

_Bell._ You were right, Lucy. Where is Shark?

_Lucy._ In my Room, Sir, dressing for the Widow.

(SKINFLINT _within_)

_Skin._ Lucy, why Lucy, ugh, ugh, where are you, Wench?

_Bell._ I'll leave you with my Uncle, Lucy, while I step up and hasten Shark. (_Exit_ [_Bellair_])

(_Enter_ SKINFLINT)

_Skin._ Here, Lucy, tye up me Affairs; they are loose and falling about my Heels.

_Lucy._ They are always loose, I think.

_Skin._ Lucy, did not I send for Monsieur du Maigre, the Apothecary?

_Lucy._ Yes Sir, and he will be here presently. (_Knocking_) Hark, this is he I suppose.

_Skin._ Go see; if it is, send him up. (_Exit Lucy_) What an insupportable Vexation Riches are; all my Relations are watching and hovering about me like so many Crows about a dead Carrion; even Bellair, who behaves the best of them all, has a Hawk's Eye, I see, after my Will and advises me in a sly indirect manner to the making of it. A Parent is used by an Heir just as a Virgin is by a Rake; before we have parted with our Treasure, we are adored, we are G.o.ds and G.o.ddesses, but as soon as that is over, we become as troublesome to them as an evil Conscience. I'll keep my money to save my poor Soul, for to be sure I have got a great deal of it in an unfair manner; therefore in order to make my Peace hereafter, I'll leave it to build an Almshouse.

(_Enter_ LUCY)