can hire a handsome whole house, fit for all his family, for the winter.

Manly. I am afraid, my lord, I must wait upon Mr. Moody.

Lord T. Pr'ythee let us have him here; he will divert us.

Manly. Oh, my lord, he's such a cub! Not but he's so near common sense, that he passes for a wit in the family.

Lady G. I beg, of all things, we may have him: I am in love with nature, let her dress be never so homely.

Manly. Then desire him to come hither, James.

[Exit JAMES. Lady G. Pray what may be Mr. Moody's post? Manly. Oh! his maître d' hotel, his butler, his bailiff, his hind, his huntsman, and sometimes-his companion.

Lord T. It runs in my head, that the moment this knight has set him down in the house, he will get up, to give them the earliest proof of what importance he is to the public in his own county.

Manly. Yes, and when they have heard him, he will find, that his utmost importance stands valued at— sometimes being invited to dinner.

Lady G. And her ladyship, I suppose, will make as considerable a figure in her sphere, too?

Manly. That you may depend upon: for (if I don't mistake) she has ten times more of the jade in her than she yet knows of: and she will so improve in this rich soil in a month, that she will visit all the ladies that will let her into their houses; and run in debt to all the shopkeepers that will let her into their books: in short, before her important spouse had made five pounds by his eloquence at Westminster, she will have lost five hundred at dice and quadrille in the parish of St. James's.

Lord T. So that, by that time he is declared unduly elected, a swarm of duns will be ready for their money; and his worship-will be ready for a gaol.

Manly. Yes, yes, that I reckon will close the account of this hopeful journey to London-But see, here comes the fore-horse of the team!

Oh, honest John!

Enter JOHN MOODY.

Moody. Ad's waunds and heart, Measter Manly! I'm glad I ha' fun ye. Lawd, lawd, give me your hand! Why, that's friendly naw. Flesh! I thought we would never ha' got hither. Well, and how do you do, measter?-Good lack! I beg pardon for my bawldness--I did not see 'at his honour was here.

Lord T. Mr. Moody, your servant: I am glad to see you in London: I hope all the good family is well.

Moody. Thanks be praised, your honour, they are all in pretty good heart; tho'f we have had a power of crosses upo' the road.

Lady G. I hope my lady has had no hurt, Mr. Moody.

Moody. Noa, and please your ladyship, she was never in better humour: there's money enough stirring

now.

Manly. What has been the matter, John?

Moody. Why, we came up in such a hurry, you mun think that our tackle was not so tight as it should be.

Manly. Come, tell us all.

Lord T. Come, let us sit down.
Manly. Pray how do they travel?

[They take chairs.

Moody. Why, i'the awld coach, measter; and 'cause my lady loves to do things handsom, to be sure, she would have a couple of cart-horses clapped to the four old geldings, that neighbours might see she went up to

London in her coach and six; and so Giles Joulter, the ploughman, rides postillion.

Manly. Very well! The journey sets out as it should do. [Aside] What, do they bring all the children with them too?

Moody. Noa, noa, only the younk 'squoire, and Miss Jenny. The other foive are all out at board, at half a crown a head, a week, with John Growse, at Smokedung-hill farm.

Manly. Good again! a right English academy for younger children! Moody. Anon, sir.

[Not understanding him.

Lord T. And when do you expect them here, John? Moody. Why, we were in hopes to ha' come yesterday, an it had no' been that th' awld weazlebelly horse tired and then we were so cruelly loaden, that the two fore wheels came crash down at once, in Waggonrut-lane, and there we lost four hours 'fore we could set things to rights again.

Manly. So they bring all the baggage with the coach then?

Moody. Ay, ay, and good store on it there is-Why, my lady's geer alone were as much as filled four portmantel trunks, beside the great deal box that heavy Ralph and the monkey sit upon behind.

Lady G. Well, Mr. Moody, and pray how many are they within the coach?

Moody. Why there's my lady, and his worship; and the younk 'squoire, and Miss Jenny, and the fat lapdog, and my lady's maid, Mrs. Handy, and Doll Tripe the cook, that's all-Only Doll puked a little with riding backward; so they hoisted her into the coach-box, and then her stomach was easy.

Lady G. Oh, I see them! I see them go by me. Ha! ha! [Laughing.

Moody. Then you mun think, measter, there was some stowage for the belly, as well as the back too; children are apt to be famished upon the road; so we had such cargoes of plum-cake, and baskets of tongues, and biscuits, and cheese, and cold boiled beef--And then, in case of sickness, bottles of cherry brandy, plague water, sack, tent, and strong beer so plenty, as made th' awld coach crack again. Mercy upon them! and send them all well to town, I say.

Manly. Ay, and well out on't again, John.

Moody. Ods bud, measter! you're a wise man; and for that matter, so am I--Whoam's whoam, I say: I am sure we ha' got but little good e'er sin we turned our backs on't. Nothing but mischief! Some devil's trick or other plagued us aw the day lung. Crack, goes one thing! bawnce, goes another! Woa! says Roger-Then, sowse! we are all set fast in a slough. Whaw, cries miss! Scream, go the maids! and bawl, just as tho'f they were stuck. And so, mercy on us! this was the trade from morning to night. But my lady was in such a murrain haste to be here, that set out she would, tho'f I told her it was Childermas day. Manly. These ladies, these ladies, John

Moody. Ay, measter! I ha' seen a little of them: and I find that the best-when she's mended, won't ha much goodness to spare.

Lord T. Well said, John-Ha! ha!

Manly. I hope, at least, you and your good woman agree still.

Moody. Ay, ay, much of a muchness. Bridget sticks to me; tho' as for her goodness-why, she was willing to come to London, too-But, hauld a bit! Noa, noa, says I; there may be mischief enough done without you.

Manly. Why, that was bravely spoken, John, and like a man.

Moody. Ah, weast heart! were measter but hawf the mon that I am-Ods wookers! thof' he'll speak stautly too, sometimes-But then he canno' hawld itno, he canno' hawld it.

Moody. Ods flesh! but I mun hie me whoam; the coach will be coming every hour naw—— -but measter charged me to find your worship out; for he has hugey business with you; and will certainly wait upon you, by that time he can put on a clean neckcloth. Manly. Oh, John, I'll wait upon him!

Moody. Why, you wonno' be so kind, wull ye?
Manly. If you'll tell me where you lodge.

Moody. Just i' the street next to where your worship dwells, at the sign of the golden ball-It's gold all over; where they sell ribbons and flappits, and other sort of geer for gentlewomen.

Manly. A milliner's?

Moody. Ay, ay, one Mrs. Motherly. Waunds, she has a couple of clever girls there, stitching i'th' fore

room.

Manly. Yes, yes, she's a woman of good business, no doubt on't-Who recommended that house to you, John?

Moody. The greatest good fortune in the world, sure; for, as I was gaping about the streets, who should look out of the window there, but the fine gentleman, that was always riding by our coach side at York races- -Count- -Basset; aye, that's he.

Manly. Basset! Oh, I remember; I know him by sight.

to

Moody. Well, to be sure, as civil a gentleman to see