now, good now, cousin Hartop-Mally Pengrouse! Who the dickens is she? Ser. Master Timothy's sweetheart in Cornwall. Sir Gre. And how came she here? lack-aday, cousin! Ser. She tramped it up after master. Master Timothy is without, and says as how they be married. I wanted him to come in, but he's afraid you'll knook'n down. Sir Gre. Knock'n down! Good now, let me come at him! I'll-ah, rogue! Lack-a-day, cousin, show me where he is! I'll Har. Moderate your fury, good Sir Gregory; consider, it is an evil without a remedy. Sir Gre. But what will Dame Winny say? Good now, such a disparagement to-and, then, what will Sir Penurious say? lack-a-day, I am almost distracted! And you, you lubberly dog! why did not you-I'll-ah, cousin Hartop, cousin Hartop! good now, good now! Har. Dear sir, be calm; this is no such surprising matter; we have such instances in the news-papers every day. Sir Gre. Good now! no cousin, no. Har. Indeed, Sir Gregory, it was but last week that Lord Lofty's son married his mother's maid; and Lady Betty Forward run away, not a month ago, with her uncle's butler. Sir Gre. Wonderful! what, in the news?— Good now, that's some comfort, however; but what will Sir Penurious Har. As to that, leave him to me; I have a project to prevent his laughing at you, I'll war rant. Sir Gre. But how?—how, cousin Hartop, how? Har. Sir Gregory, do you think me your friend? Har. Oh, sir! If you are satisfied, I am rewarded. I wish you joy; joy to you, child! Tim. Thanks, cousin Hartop. Enter Waiter. niece, being come to town, and hearing your Wait. Sir, Mrs. Penelope Trifle, with her worship was in the house, would be glad to pay you their compliments, Sir Gre. Lack-a-day! wonderful! here we are all topsy-turvey again! What can be done now, cousin Hartop? Har. Dick! show the ladies in here; but delay them a little. The luckiest incident in the lend Jenkins your dress, and Master Timothy world, Sir Gregory! If you'll be kind enough to will lend me his, I'll make up matters in a mo ment. Sir Gre. Ay, ay, Sir Gre. Aye, aye, where you will. [Exeunt. dry. Mrs. Pen. Fie, fie, niece! is that liquor for a breeding. The person is to be born that ever young lady? Don't disparage your family and I was three-and-twenty. saw me touch any thing stronger than water till Suck. Troth, aunt, that is so long ago, that I think there's few people alive who can remem Mrs. Pen. How gillflirt? none of your fleers! I am glad here's a husband coming that will take headstrong and robust for me. down: Your tantrums! You are grown too you Sir Gre. Lack-a-day! ay, cousin, ay. Har. And would you, in return, serve me in ber what you did, then. a circumstance that can't injure yourself? Sir Gre. Good now, to be sure, cousin. Har. Will you, then, permit me to assume the figure of your son, and so pay my addresses to Miss Trifle? I was pretty happy in the imitation of her father; and if I could impose upon your sagacity, I shall find less difficulty with your brother knight, Sir Gre. Good touch Tim. Har. I warrant you. But, see, the young gentleman. now, Tim! ah, you could not taken down the same way! Mrs. Pen. Oh! you are a pert-But, see, your lover approaches. Now, Sukey, be careful, child: None of your Enter JENKINS, as SIR GREGORY, and HAR TOP, as TIM. Jen. Lack-a-day, lady! I rejoice to see you. Wonderful! and your niece! Tim, the ladies. Har. Your servant, mistress! I am glad to sole, mistress, Suck's a fine young woman, more see you, Miss Suck. [Salutes her.] Fath and or less. Suck. Yes, I am well enough, I believe. where's Sir Penurious? Jen. But, lady, where's my brother Trifle? Suck. Father's at home, in expectation of you; and aunt and I be come to town to make | there; there you will find one to do your busipreparations. Jen. Ay, wonderful! Pray, lady, shall I, good now! crave a word in private? Tim, will you and your sweetheart draw back a little? Har. Yes, father. Come, miss, will you jog a tiny bit this way! Suck. With all my heart. ness wonderful! matters will soon be managed within. Well, lady, this was, good now, so kind! Lack-a-day! I verily believe if dame Winny was dead, that I should be glad to lead up such another dance with you, lady. [Exeunt HAR. and Suck. Mrs. Pen. You are, sir, something too preciJen. There is, lady, a wonderful affair has pitate: Nor would there, did circumstances happened, good now! Son Tim has fallen in love concur, as you insinuate, be so absolute a certiwith a young woman at his uncle's, and 'tis part-tude, that I, who have rejected so many matches, should instantaneously succumb. ly to prevent bad consequences, that I am, lacka-day! so hasty to match him: and one of my men, good now! tells me that he has seen the wench since we have been in town; she has followed us here, sure as a gun, lady! if Tim sees the girl, he'll never marry your niece. Mrs. Pen. It is, indeed, Sir Gregory Gazette, a most critical conjuncture, and requires the most mature deliberation. Jen. Deliberation! lack-a-day, lady, whilst we deliberate the boy will be lost. Mrs. Pen. Why, Sir Gregory Gazette, what operations can we determine upon? Jen. Lack-a-day, I know but one. Mrs. Pen. Administer your proposition, Sir Gregory Gazette: you will have my concurrence, sir, in any thing that does not derogate from the regulations of conduct; for it would be most preposterous in one of my character, to deviate from the strictest attention. Jen. Lack-a-day, lady! -no such matter is wanted. But, good now! could not we tack the young couple together directly? your brother and I have already agreed. Mrs, Pen. Are the previous preliminaries settled, Sir Gregory Gazette? Jen. Good now! as firm as a rock, lady. Mrs. Pen. Why, then, to preserve your son, and accomplish the union between our families, I have no objections to the acceleration of their nuptials, provided the child is inclined, and a minister may be procured. Jen. Wonderful! you are very good, good now! there has been one match already in the house to-day we may have the same parson. Here, Tim!- -and young gentlewoman! Well, miss! wonderful, and how? has Tim? hey, boy! Is not a miss a fine young lady? Har. Faith and sole, father, miss is a charming young woman; all red and white, like Mally-Hum! Jen. Hush, Tim! Well, and miss, how does my boy? he's an honest hearty lad? Has he, good now! had the art? How d'ye like him, young gentlewoman? Suck. Like'n! well enough, I think. Jen. Why, then, miss, with your leave, your aunt and I, here, have agreed, if you are willing, to have the wedding over directly. Suck. Gad! with all my heart. Ask the young man. Har. Faith and sole, just as you please; today, to-morrow, or when you will, more or less. Jen. Good now, good now! then, get you in Jen. Lack-a-day, lady, good now! I Mrs. Pen. No, sir; I would have you instructed, that had not Penelope Trifle made irrefragable resolutions, she need not so long have preserved her family surname. Jen. Wonderful! why, I was only Mrs. Pen. Nor has the title of Lady Gazette such resplendent charms, or such bewitching allurements, as to throw me at once into the arms of Sir Gregory. Jen. Good now! who says Mrs. Pen. Could wealth, beauty, or titles superior to, perhaps Enter SIR GREGORY, ROGER, and TIM. Tim. Yes, indeed, father; Mr. Hartop knew on't as well as I, and Mr. Jenkins got us a parson. Sir Gre. Good now, good now! a rare couple of friends! But I'll be even with them! I'll marr their market! Master Jenkins, you have fobbed me finely. Jen. Lack-a-day, what's the matter now? Sir Gre. Come, come; none of your lack-adays! none of your gambols, nor your tricks to me: Good now, good now! give me my clothes! here, take your tawdry trappings! I have found you out at last: I'll be no longer your property. Jen. Wouderful; what's all this, lady? Good now, good now! what's here! a stage play? Sir Gre. Play me no plays; but give me my wig; and your precious friend, my loving cousin, pize on the kindred, let'n Jen. Good now, good now! what are these folks? as sure as a gun, they're mad. Sir Gre. Mad! no, no; we are neither mad nor fools: no thanks to you, though. Mrs. Pen. What is all this; can you unravel this perplexity, untwine this mystery, Sir Gregory Gazette? Sir Gre. He Sir Gregory Gazette? Lack-aday, lady; you are tricked, imposed upon, bamboozled: Good now, good now! 'tis I am Sir Gregory Gazette. Mrs. Pen. How? Tim. Faith and sòle, 'tis true, mistress; and I am his son Tim, and will swear it. Mrs. Pen. Why, isn't Mr. Timothy Gazette with my niece Susannah Trifle? Tim. Who, me! Lord, no, 'tis none of I; it is cousin Hartop in my cloaths. Mrs. Pen. What's this? and pray who- you may, madam, call me Jenkins. Come, Hartop, you may now throw off your disguise; the knight had like to have embarrassed us. Enter HARTOP and SUCK. Mrs. Pen. How, Mr. Jenkins! and would you, sir, participate of a plot to Har. Madam, in the issue, your family will, I hope, have no great reason to repent. I always had the greatest veneration for Miss Penelope Trifle's understanding; if the highest esteem for her virtues can entitle me to the honour of being regarded as her relation Mrs. Pen. Sir, I shall determine on nothing, till I am apprized of my brother's resolution. Har. For that we must wait. Sir Gregory, I must entreat you and your son's pardon for some little liberties I have taken with you both. Mr. Jenkins, I have the highest obligation to your friendship; and, miss, when we become a little better acquainted, I flatter myself the change will not prove unpleasing. Suck. I know nothing at all about it. Har. Sir Gregory, we shall have your company at dinner? Sir Gre. Lack-a-day! no, no; that boy has spoiled my stomach. Come, Tim, fetch thy rib, and let us be jogging towards Wales; but how thou wilt get off with thy mother Tim. Never fear, father 'And I do constitute my very good friend, Giles Crab, Esq. of St. Martin's in the Fields, executor to this my will; and do appoint him guardian to my ward, Lucinda; and do submit to his direction the management of all my affairs till the return of my son from his travels; whom I do entreat my said executor, in consideration of our ancient friendship, to advise, to counsel, &c. &c. 'JOHN BUCK.' A good, pretty legacy! Let's see; I find myself heir, by this generous devise of my very good friend, to ten actions at common law, nine suits in chancery; the conduct of a boy, bred a booby at home, and finished a fop at abroad; together with the direction of a marriageable, and therefore an unmanageable, wench; and all this to an old fellow of sixty-six, who heartily hates business, is tired of the world, and despises every thing in it. Why, how the devil came I to merit Enter Servant. Ser. Mr. Latitat of Staple's Inn. Crub. So, here begin my plagues. Shew the hound in. Enter LATITAT, with a bag, &c. Lat. I would, Mr. Crab, have attended your summons immediately; but 1 was obliged to sign judgment in error at the common pleas; sue out and the whereby, the statute common, and cusof the exchequer a writ of quæ minus; and sur-tomary: or, as Plowden classically and elegantly render in banco regis the defendant, before the expresses it, 'tis return of sci fa, to discharge the bail. Crab. Pr'ythee, man, none of thy unintelligible law-jargon to me; but tell me, in the language of common sense and thy country, what I am to do? Lat. Why, Mr. Crab, as you are already possessed of a probat, and letters of administration de bonis are granted, you may sue or be sued. I hold it sound doctrine for no executor to discharge debts, without a receipt upon record; this can be obtained by no means but by an action. Now actions, sir, are of various kinds: There are special actions; actions on the case, or assumpsits; actions of trover; actions of clausum fregit; actions of battery, actions of Crab. Hey, the devil, where's the fellow running now? But, harkye, Latitat, why I thought all our law proceedings were directed to be in English? Lat. True, Mr. Crab? Hac tria jus statuunt terra Britannia tibi. Crab. Zounds, sir, among all your laws, are Enter Servant. Ser. Your clerk, sir-The parties, he says, are all in waiting at your chambers. Lat. I come. I will but just explain to Mr. Crab. And what do you call all this stuff, ha? scribed by a late statute. Crab. The devil you do! Lat. Vernacular! upon my honour, Mr. Crab. For as Lord Coke describes the common law to be the perfection Crab. So here's a fresh deluge of impertinence. A truce to thy authorities, I beg; and as I find it will be impossible to understand thee without an interpreter, if you will meet me at five, at Mr. Brief's chambers, where, if you have any thing to say, he will translate it for me. Lat. Mr. Brief, sir, and translate, sir! Sir, I would have you to know, that no practitioner in Westminster-hall gives clearer Crab. Sir, I believe it-for which reason I have referred you to a man who never goes into Westminster-hall. Lut. A bad proof of his practice, Mr. Crab. Crab. A good one of his principles, Mr. Latitat. Lat. Why, sir, do you think that a lawyerCrab. Zounds, sir! I never thought about a lawyer. The law is an oracular idol, you are the explanatory ministers; nor should any of my own private concerns have made me bow to your beastly Baal. I had rather lose a cause than contest it. And had not this old doating dunce, Sir John Buck, plagued me with the management of his money, and the care of his booby boy, bedlam should sooner have had me than the bar. Lat. Bedlam! the bar! Since, sir, I am provoked, I don't know what your choice may be, or what your friends may choose for you: I wish I was your prochain ami: But I am under some doubts as to the sanity of the testator, otherwise he could not have chosen for his executor, under the sanction of the law, a person who despises the law. And the law, give me leave to tell you, Mr. Crab, is the bulwark, the fence, the protection, the sine qua non, the ne plus ultra Crab. Mercy, good six and eightpence! Crab. Zounds, sir! I have not the least curiosity. Lat. Sir, but every gentleman should know— Lat. But by the late acts of Par- Ser. Your clients, sir Crab. Push him out! [The lawyer talking all the while.] So ho! Hark ye, rascal, if you suffer that fellow to enter my doors again, I'll strip and discard you the very next minute. [Exit Servant.] This is but the beginning of my torments. But that I expect the young whelp from abroad every instant, I'd fly for it myself, and quit the kingdom at once. Enter Servant. Ser. My young master's travelling tutor, sir, just arrived. Crab. Oh, then I suppose the blockhead of a baronet is close at his heels. Shew him in. This bear-leader, I reckon now, is either the clumsy curate of the knight's parish church, or some needy Highlander, the outcast of his country, who, with the pride of a German baron, the poverty of a French marquis, the address of a Swiss soldier, and the learning of an academy-usher, is to give our heir-apparent politeness, taste, literature-a perfect knowledge of the world, and of himself. Enter MACRUthen. vant. Well, where's your charge? Mac. O, the young baronet is o'the road. I |