* * * * * ACT I SCENE.--_A Public Room in an Inn--Landlord, Waiters, Gentlemen, &c. Enter Mr. H._ MR. H. Landlord, has the man brought home my boots? LANDLORD Yes, Sir. MR. H. You have paid him? LANDLORD There is the receipt, Sir, only not quite filled up, no name, only blank--"Blank, Dr. to Zekiel Spanish for one pair of best hessians." Now, Sir, he wishes to know what name he shall put in, who he shall say "Dr." MR. H. Why, Mr. H. to be sure. LANDLORD So I told him, Sir; but Zekiel has some qualms about it. He says, he thinks that Mr. H. only would not stand good in law. MR. H. Rot his impertinence, bid him put in Nebuchadnezzar, and not trouble me with his scruples. LANDLORD I shall, Sir. [_Exit_.] _Enter a Waiter_. WAITER Sir, Squire Level's man is below, with a hare and a brace of pheasants for Mr. H. MR. H. Give the man half-a-crown, and bid him return my best respects to his master. Presents it seems will find me out, with any name, or no name. _Enter Second Waiter_. SECOND WAITER Sir, the man that makes up the Directory is at the door. MR. H. Give him a shilling, that is what these fellows come for. SECOND WAITER He has sent up to know by what name your Honour will please to be inserted. MR. H. Zounds, fellow, I give him a shilling for leaving out my name, not for putting it in. This is one of the plaguy comforts of going anonymous. [_Exit Second Waiter_.] _Enter Third Waiter_. THIRD WAITER Two letters for Mr. H. [_Exit_.] MR. H. From ladies (_opens them_). This from Melesinda, to remind me of the morning call I promised; the pretty creature positively languishes to be made Mrs. H. I believe I must indulge her (_affectedly_). This from her cousin, to bespeak me to some party, I suppose (_opening it_)--Oh, "this evening"--"Tea and cards"--(_surveying himself with complacency_). Dear H., thou art certainly a pretty fellow. I wonder what makes thee such a favourite among the ladies: I wish it may not be owing to the concealment of thy unfortunate--pshaw! _Enter Fourth Waiter_. FOURTH WAITER Sir, one Mr. Printagain is enquiring for you. MR. H. Oh, I remember, the poet; he is publishing by subscription. Give him a guinea, and tell him he may put me down. FOURTH WAITER What name shall I tell him, Sir? MR. H. Zounds, he is a poet; let him fancy a name. [_Exit Fourth Waiter_.] _Enter Fifth Waiter_. FIFTH WAITER Sir, Bartlemy the lame beggar, that you sent a private donation to last Monday, has by some accident discovered his benefactor, and is at the door waiting to return thanks. MR. H. Oh, poor fellow, who could put it into his head? Now I shall be teazed by all his tribe, when once this is known. Well, tell him I am glad I could be of any service to him, and send him away. FIFTH WAITER I would have done so, Sir; but the object of his call now, he says, is only to know who he is obliged to. MR. H. Why, me. FIFTH WAITER Yes, Sir. MR. H. Me, me, me, who else, to be sure?