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 2d Waiter.

2d 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.

2d Waiter. He has sent up to know by what name your Honor 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 2d Waiter.

Enter 3d Waiter.

3d 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 favorite among the ladies:  I wish it may not be owing to the concealment of thy unfortunate——­pshaw!

          Enter 4th Waiter.

4th Waiter. Sir, one Mr. Printagain is inquiring 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.

4th Waiter.  What name shall I tell him, Sir?

Mr. H. Zounds, he is a poet; let him fancy a name.

[Exit 4th Waiter.

Enter 5th Waiter.

5th 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 teased 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.

5th 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.