Mrs. M. If she does, sir, they shall always be at her service.

Lady W. Very obliging, indeed, Mrs. Motherly!

Sir Fran. Very kind and civil, truly!-I think we are got into a mighty good hawse here.

Manly. Oh, yes! and very friendly company.

Count B. Humph! I'gad, I don't like his looks-he seems a little smoky-I believe I had as good brush off-If I stay, I don't know but he may ask me some odd questions.

Manly. Well, sir, I believe you and I do but hinder the family.

Count B. It's very true, sir-I was just thinking of going-He don't care to leave me, I see; but it's no matter, we have time enough—[Aside.] And so, ladies, without ceremony, your humble servant.

[Exit, and drops a letter. Lady W. Ha! what paper's this? Some billet-doux, I'll lay my life, but this is no place to examine it.

[Puts it in her pocket. Sir Fran. Why in such haste, cousin? Manly. Oh, my lady must have a great many affairs upon her hands, after such a journey!

Lady W. I believe, sir, I shall not have much less every day, while I stay in this town, of one sort or other.

Manly. Why, truly, ladies seldom want employment here, madam.

Jenny. And mamma did not come to it, to be idle, sir. Manly. Nor you neither, I dare sare, my young mis

tress?

Jenny. I hope not, sir.

Manly. Ha, Miss Mettle!-Where are you going, sir? Sir Fran. Only to see you to the door, sir.

Manly. Oh, Sir Francis, I love to come and go without ceremony!

Sir Fran. Nay, sir, I must do as you will have me— your humble servant. [Exit MANLY. Jenny. This cousin Manly, papa, seems to be but of an odd sort of a crusty humour-I don't like him half so Iwell as the Count.

Sir Fran. Pooh! that's another thing, child-Cousin is a little proud, indeed! but, however, you must always be civil to him, for he has a deal of money; and nobody knows who he may give it to.

Lady W. Psha! a fig for his money! you have so many projects of late, about money, since you are a parliament man! What, we must make ourselves slaves to his impertinent humours, eight or ten years, perhaps, in hopes to be his heirs! and then, he will be just old enough to marry his maid.

Mrs. M. Nay, for that matter, madam, the town says he is going to be married already.

Sir Fran. Who! cousin Manly?
Lady W. To whom, pray?

Mrs. M. Why, is it possible, your ladyship should know nothing of it!-to my Lord Townly's sister, Lady Grace.

Lady W. Lady Grace!

Mrs. M. Dear madam, it has been in the newspapers.

Lady W. I don't like that, neither.

Sir Fran. Naw I do ; for then it's likely it mayn't be

true.

Lady W. [Aside.] If it is not too far gone: at least, it may be worth one's while to throw a rub in his way. 'Squire R. Pray, feythur, haw lung will it be to supper?

Sir Fran. Odso, that's true! step to the cook, lad, and ask what she can get us.

Mrs. M. If you please, sir, I'll order one of my maids to show her where she may have any thing you have a mind to.

[Exit.

Sir Fran. Thank you kindly, Mrs. Motherly.

'Squire R. Ods flesh ! what, is not it i' the hawse yet? -I shall be famished-but hawld! I'll go and ask Doll, an' there's none o' the goose poy left.

Sir Fran. Do so-and dost hear, Dick?-see if there's e'er a bottle o' the strong beer, that came i' th' coach with us-if there be, clap a toast in it, and bring it up. 'Squire R. With a little nutmeg and sugar, shawn'a I, feyther?

breakfast Go thy ways.

Sir Fran. Ay, ay, as thee and I always drink it for [Exit 'SQUIRE RICHARD. Lady W. This boy is always thinking of his belly. Sir Fran. Why, my dear, you may allow him to be a little hungry, after his journey.

Lady W. Nay, e'en breed him your own way-He has been cramming, in or out of the coach, all this day, I am sure I wish my poor girl could eat a quarter as much.

Jenny. Oh, as for that, I could eat a great deal more, mamma! but then, mayhap, I should grow coarse, like him, and spoil my shape.

Enter 'SQUIRE RICHARD, with a full Tankard.

'Squire R. Here, feyther, I ha' browght it-it's well I went as I did; for our Doll had just baked a toast, and was going to drink it herself.

Sir Fran. Why, then, here's to thee, Dick!

'Squire R. Thonk you, feyther.

[Drinks.

Lady W. Lord, Sir Francis, I wonder you can encourage the boy to swill so much of that lubberly liquor! it's enough to make him quite stupid!

'Squire R. Why, it never hurts me, mother; and I sleep like a hawnd after it. [Drinks. Sir Fran. I am sure I ha' drunk it these thirty years, and, by your leave, madam, I don't know that I want wit, ha ha!

Jenny. But you might have had a great deal more, рара, if you would have been governed by my mother. Sir Fran. Daughter, he that is governed by his wife has no wit at all.

Jenny. Then I hope I shall marry a fool, sir; for I love to govern, dearly.

Sir Fran. You are too pert, child; it don't do well in a young woman.

Lady W. Pray, Sir Francis, don't snub her; she has a fine growing spirit, and if you check her so, you will make her as dull as her brother there.

'Squire R. [After a long draught.] Indeed, mother, I think my sister is too forward.

Jenny. You! you think I'm too forward! sure, brother mud! your head's too heavy to think of any thing but your belly.

Lady W. Well said, miss! he's none of your master, though he is your elder brother.

'Squire R. No, nor she shawn't be my mistress, while she's younger sister.

Sir Fran. Well said, Dick! show them that stawt liquor makes a stawt heart, lad!

'Squire R. So I will! and I'll drink agen, for all her. [Drinks.

Enter JOHN MOODY.

Sir Fran. So, John, how are the horses?

Moody. Troth, sir, I ha' noa good opinion o' this tawn; it's made up o' mischief, I think.

Sir Fran. What's the matter naw?

Moody. Why, I'll tell your worship-before we were gotten to th' street end, with the coach, here, a great luggerheaded cart, with wheels as thick as a brick wall, laid hawld on't, and has poo'd it aw to bits-crack went the perch! down goes the coach! and whang says the glasses, all to shievers! Marcy upon us!-and this be London, 'would we were aw weel in the country ageen!

Jenny. What have you to do, to wish us all in the country again, Mr. Lubber? I hope we shall not go into the country again these seven years, mamma; let twenty coaches be pulled to pieces.

Sir Fran. Hold your tongue, Jenny !-Was Roger in no fault in all this?

Moody. Noa, sir, nor I noither. Are not yow ashamed, says Roger to the carter, to do such an unkind thing by strangers? Noa, says he, you bumkin. Sir, he did the thing on very purpose! and so the folks said that stood by-Very well, says Roger, yow shall see what our meyster will say to ye! Your meyster, says he; your meyster may kiss my-and so he clapped his hand just there, and like your worship. Flesh! I thought they had better breeding in this town.

Sir Fran. I'll teach this rascal some, I'll warrant him! Odsbud, if I take him in hand, I'll play the devil with him!

'Squire R. Ay, do, feyther; have him before the parliament.

Sir Fran. Odsbud, and so I will!—I will make him know who I am-Where does he live?

Moody. I believe, in London, sir.
Sir Fran. What's the rascal's name?

Moody. I think I heard somebody call him Dick.
'Squire R. What! my name?

Sir Fran. Where did he go ?
Moody. Sir, he went home.
Sir Fran. Where's that?

Moody. By my troth, sir, I doan't know! I heard him say he would cross the same street again to-morrow; and if we had a mind to stand in his way, he would pooll us over and over again.

Sir Fran. Will he so?

stable!

Odzooks, get me a con

Lady W. Pooh, get you a good supper!-Come, Sir Francis, don't put yourself in a heat, for what can't be