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 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.

5th Waiter. Yes, Sir.

Mr. H. Me, me, me; who else, to be sure?

5th Waiter. Yes, Sir; but he is anxious to know the name of his benefactor.

Mr. H. Here is a pampered rogue of a beggar, that cannot be obliged to a gentleman in the way of his profession, but he must know the name, birth, parentage, and education of his benefactor! I warrant you, next he will require a certificate of one's good behavior, and a magistrate's license in one's pocket, lawfully empowering so and so to—give an alms. Anything more?

5th Waiter. Yes, Sir; here has been Mr. Patriot, with the county petition to sign; and Mr. Failtime, that owes so much money, has sent to remind you of your promise to bail him.

Mr. H. Neither of which I can do, while I have no name. Here is more of the plaguy comforts of going anonymous, that one can neither serve one's friend nor one's country. Damn it, a man had better be without a nose, than without a name. I will not live long in this mutilated, dismembered state; I will to Melesinda this instant, and try to forget these vexations. Melesinda! there is music in the name; but then, hang it! there is none in mine to answer to it.

[Exit.

(While Mr. H. has been speaking, two Gentlemen have been observing him curiously.)

1st Gent. Who the devil is this extraordinary personage?

2d Gent. Who? Why, 'tis Mr. H.

1st Gent. Has he no more name?

2d Gent. None that has yet transpired. No more! why, that single letter has been enough to inflame the imaginations of all the ladies in Bath. He has been here but a fortnight, and is already received into all the first families.

1st Gent. Wonderful! yet, nobody know who he is, or where he comes from!

2d Gent. He is vastly rich, gives away money as if he had infinity; dresses well, as you see; and for address, the mothers are all dying for fear the daughters should get him; and for the daughters, he may command them as absolutely as——. Melesinda, the rich heiress, 'tis thought, will carry him.

1st Gent. And is it possible that a mere anonymous—

2d Gent. Phoo! that is the charm.—Who is he? and what is he? and what is his name?——The man with the great nose on his face never excited more of the gaping passion of wonderment in the dames of Strasburg, than this new-comer, with the single letter to his name, has lighted up among the wives and maids of Bath; his simply having lodgings here, draws more visitors to the house than an election. Come with me to the Parade, and I will show you more of him.

[Exeunt.