_Job._ Yes; gone to sea, for what I know, as you did. Run away from a good father, as you did.--This is a morning to remember;--my daughter has run out, and the bailiffs have run in;--I shan't soon forget the day of the month. _Pereg._ This morning, did you say? _Job._ Aye, before day-break;--a hard-hearted, base---- _Pereg._ And could she leave you, during the derangement of your affairs? _Job._ She did'nt know what was going to happen, poor soul! I wish she had now. I don't think my Mary would have left her old father in the midst of his misfortunes. _Pereg._ [_Aside._] Mary! it must be she! What is the amount of the demands upon you? _Job._ Six thousand. But I don't mind that: the goods can nearly cover it--let 'em take 'em--damn the gridirons and warming-pans!--I could begin again--but, now, my Mary's gone, I hav'n't the heart; but I shall hit upon something. _Pereg._ Let me make a proposal to you, my old friend. Permit me to settle with the officers, and to clear all demands upon you. Make it a debt, if you please. I will have a hold, if it must be so, on your future profits in trade; but do this, and I promise to restore your daughter to you. _Job._ What? bring back my child! Do you know where she is? Is she safe? Is she far off? Is---- _Pereg._ Will you receive the money? _Job._ Yes, yes; on those terms--on those conditions. But where is Mary? _Pereg._ Patience. I must not tell you yet; but, in four-and-twenty hours, I pledge myself to bring her back to you. _Job._ What, here? to her father's house? and safe? Oh, 'sbud! when I see her safe, what a thundering passion I'll be in with her! But you are not deceiving me? You know, the first time you came into my shop, what a bouncer you told me, when you were a boy. _Pereg._ Believe me, I would not trifle with you now. Come, come down to your shop, that we may rid it of its present visitants. _Job._ I believe you dropt from the clouds, all on a sudden, to comfort an old, broken-hearted brazier. _Pereg._ I rejoice, my honest friend, that I arrived at so critical a juncture; and, if the hand of Providence be in it, 'tis because Heaven ordains, that benevolent actions, like yours, sooner or later, must ever meet their recompense. [_Exeunt._ * * * * * ACT THE THIRD. SCENE I. _SIR SIMON ROCHDALE'S Library._ _Enter SIR SIMON ROCHDALE and the EARL OF FITZ BALAAM._ _Sir Simon._ Believe me, my lord, the man I wish'd most to meet in my library this morning, was the Earl of Fitz Balaam. _Lord Fitz._ Thank you, Sir Simon. _Sir Simon._ Your arrival, a day before your promise, gives us such convenient leisure to talk over the arrangements, relative to the marriage of Lady Caroline Braymore, your lordship's daughter, with my son. _Lord Fitz._ True, Sir Simon.