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say that I have lived all my days i' the country Man. Very well; but when she is thus ac
-what then ?—I'm o' the quorum-I have complished, you must still wait for a vacancy. been at sessions, and I have made speeches there! Sir Fran. Why, I hope one has a good chance ay, and at vestry, too— -and mayhap they for that every day, cousin : for, if I take it right, may find here,---that I have brought my that's a post, that folks are not more willing to tongue up to town with me! D'ye take me naw? get into, than they are to get out of — It's like
Man. If I take your case right, cousin, I am an orange-tree, upon that accawnt-It will bear afraid the first occasion you will have for your blossoms, and fruit that's ready to drop, at the eloquence here, will be, to shew that you have same time. any right to make use of it at all.
Mun. Well, sir, you best know how to make Sir Fran. How d'ye mean?
good your pretensions. But, pray, where is my Man. That Sir John Worthland has lodged a lady, and my young cousin ? I should be glad to petition against you.
see them, too. Sir Fran. Petition ! why, aye! there let it lie Sir Fran. She is but just taking a dish of tea we'll find a way to deal with that, I warrant you! with the count, and my landlady--I'll call her
Why, you forget, cousin, sir John's o' the dawn. wrung side, mon?
Man. No, no; if she's engaged, I shall call Man. I doubt, sir Francis, that will do you again. but little service; for, in cases very notorious, Sir Fran. Odsheart! But you mun see her which I take yours to be, there is such a thing as naw, cousin; what! The best friend I have in a short day, and dispatching them immediately. the world! Here, swectheart !--[To a servant
Sir Fran. With all my heart! the sooner I without.]—Prithee, desire my lady and the gensend him home again, the better.
tleman to come dawn a bit; tell her, here's Man. And this is the scheme you have laid cousin Manly come to wait upon her. down, to repair your fortune ?
Man. Pray, sir, who may ihe gentleman be? Sir Fran. In one word, cousin, I think it my Sir Fran. You man know him, to be sure; duty. The Wrongheads have been a considerable why, its Count Basset. family ever since England was England : and, Man. Oh! Is it be? Your fainily will be insince the world knows I have talents wherewith- finitely happy in his acquaintance. al, they shan't say it's my fault, if I don't make Sir Fran. Troth! I think so, too: he's the cias good a figure as any that ever were at the head vilest man that ever I knew in my life Why! on't.
here he would go out of his own lodgings, at an Man. Nay, this project, as you have laid it, hour's warning, purely to oblige my family.will come up to any thing your ancestors have Was’nt that kind, naw? done these five hundred years.
Man. Extremely civil- the family is in admiSir Fran. And let me alone to work it: may- rable hands already.
Aside. hap, I havn't told you all, neither
Sir Fran. Then my lady likes him hugelyMan. You astonish me! What! And is it full all the time of York races, she would never be as practicable as what you have told me? without him,
Sir Fran. Ay, thof” I say it-every whit, Man. That was happy, indeed! And a procousin. You'll find that I have more irons i' the dent man, you know, should always take care fire than one; I doan't come of a fool's errand ! that his wife may have innocent company, Man. Very well.
Sir Fran. Why, aye! that's it! and I think Sir Fran. In a word, my wife has got a friend there could not be such another ! at court, as well as myself, and her dowghter Man. Why, truly, for her purpose, I think not. Jenny is naw pretty well grown up,
Sir Fran. Only naw and tan, he-he stonds a Man. [Aside. And what, in the devil's name, leetle too much upon ceremony; that's his fault would he do with the dowdy?
Man. Oh, never fear! he'll mend that every Sir Fran. Naw, if I doan't lay in for a husband day-Mercy on us! What a head he has ! for her, mayhap, i' this tawn, she may be looking
[Aside. out for herself
Sir Fran. So, here they come. Man. Not unlikely.
Sir Fran. Therefore, I have some thoughts of Enter Lady WRONGHEAD, Count Basset, and getting her to be maid of honour.
Mrs MOTHERLY. Mun. (Aside.]—Oh! he has taken my breath Lady Wrong. Cousin Manly, this is infinitely away; but I must hear him out-Pray, sir Fran- obliging; I am extremely glad to see you. cis, do you think her education has yet qualified Man. Your most obedient servant, madam; I ber for a court?
am glad to see your ladyship look so well, after Sir Fran. Why, the girl is a little too mettle- your journey. some, it's true ; but she has tongue enough : she Lady Wrong. Why, really, coming to London woan't be dasht : then she shall learn to daunce is apt to put a little more life in one's looks. forthwith, and that will soon teach her how to Man. Yet the way of living here, is very apk stond still, you know.
to deaden the complexion-and, give me leare
to tell you, as a friend, madam, you are come to Man. And as for thee, my pretty dear—[Sathe worst place in the world, for a good woman lutes her.)—May'st thou be, at least, as good a to grow better in.
woman as thy mother! Lady Irong. Lord, cousin! How should peo Jenny. I wish I may ever be so handsome, sir. ple ever make any figure in life, that are always Man. Ha, Miss Pert! Now that's a thought moped up in the country.
that seems to have been hatcht in the girl on this Count Bas. Your ladyship certainly takes the side Highgate.
[Aside. thing in quite a right light, madam. Mr Manly, Sir Fran. Her tongue is a little nimble, sir. your humble servant--a hem.
Lady Wrong: That's only from her country Plan. Familiar puppy.—(Aside.)—Sir, your education, sir Francis. You know she has been most obedient-I must be civil to the rascal, to kept too long there—so I brought her to London, cover my suspicion of him.
(Aside. sir, to learn a little more reserve and modesty. Count Bas. Was you at White's this morning, Man. Oh, the best place in the world for it sir?
every woman she meets will teach her something Man. Yes, sir, I just called in.
of it - There's the good gentlewoman of the Count Bas. Pray--what-was there any thing house looks like a knowing person; even she, done there?
perhaps, will be so good as to shew her a little Mun. Much as usual, sir; the same daily car London behaviour. cases, and the same crows about them.
Moth. Alas, sir! miss won't stand long in need Count Bas. The Demoivre-Baronet had a of my instruction, bloody tumble yesterday,
Man. That I dare say. What thou canst Dian. I hope, sir, you had your share of him. teach her, she will soon be mistress of. (Aside.
Count Bas. No, faith; I came in when it was Moth. If she does, sir, they shall always be at all over-I think I just made a couple of bets her service. with him, took up a cool hundred, and so went to Lady Wrong. Very obliging indeed, Mrs Mothe King's Arms.
therly? Lady Wrong. What a genteel easy manner he Sir Fran. Very kind and civil, truly !-I think has!
[Aside. we are got into a mighty good hawse here. Man. A very hopeful acquaintance I have Mun. Oh, yes; and very friendly company. made here.
[Aside. Count Bas. Humph! 'Egad I don't like his
looks—he seems a little smoky—I believe I had Enter SQUIRE RICHARD, with a wet brown pa- as good brush off-If I stay, I don't know but he per on his face.
may ask me some odd questions. Sir Fran. How naw, Dick! what's the matter Mlun. Well, sir; I believe you and I do but with thy forehead, lad?
hinder the familySquire Rich. I ha' gotten a knock upon't. Count Bas. It is very true, sir-I was just
Lady Wrong. And how did you come by it, thinking of going—He don't care to leave ne, I you heedless creature ?
see: but it's no matter, we have time enough.--Squire Rich. Why, I was but running after (Aside.)-And so, ladies, without farther ceremosister, and t’other young woman, into a little ny, your humble servant. room, just naw: and so, with that, they slapped [Erit Count Basset, and drops a letter. the door full in my face, and gave me such a Lady Wrong. Ha! What paper's this? Some whurr here-I thought they had beaten my brains billet-doux, l'il lay my life; but this is no place out; so, I got a dab of wet brown paper here, to examine it.
[Puts it in her pocket. to swage it a while.
Sir Fran. Why in such haste, cousin ? Lady Wrong. They served you right enough; Man. Oh, my lady must have a great many will you never have done with your horse-play? affairs upon her hands, after such a journey.
Sir Fran. Pooh, never heed it, lad; it will be Lady Wrong. I believe, sir, I shall not have well by to-morrow—the boy has a strong head. much less every day, while I stay in this town, of
Man. Yes, truly; his skull seems to be of a one sort or other. comfortable thickness.
[Aside. Man. Why, truly, ladies seldom want employe Sir Fran. Conne, Dick, here's cousin Manly-ment here, madam. Sir, this is your god-son.
Jenny. And mamma did not come to it to be Squire Rich. Honoured godfeyther, I crave idle, sir. leave to ask your blessing.
Mun. Nor you, neither, I dare say, my young Man. Thou hast it, child-and, if it will do mistress. thee any good, may it be, to make thee, at least, Jenny. I hope not, sir. as wise a man as thy father!
Man. Ha, Miss Mettle! Where are you going,
sir? Enter Miss Jenny.
Sir Fran. Only to see you to the door, sir. Lady Wrong, Oh, here's my daughter, too. Man. Oh, sir Francis, I love to come and go, Miss Jenny! Don't you see your cousin, child?
Sir Fran. Nay, sir; I must do as you will | way–He has been cramming, in or out of the have me-Your humble servant.
coach, all this day, I am sure--I wish my poor
[Exit Manly. girl could eat a quarter as much. Jenny. This cousin Manly, papa, seems to be Jenny. Oh, as for that, I could eat a great but of an odd sort of a crusty humour-I don't deal more, mamma; but, then, mayhap, I should like him half so well as the count.
grow coarse, like him, and spoil my shape. Sir Fran. Pooh! that's another thing, child Lady Wrong. Aye; so thou wouldst, my dear. Cousin is a little proud, indeed; but, however, you must always be civil to him, for he has a
Enter SQUIRE RICHARD, with a full tankard. deal of money; and nobody knows who he may
Squire Rich. Here, feyther, I ha' browght itgive it to.
it's well I went as I did; for our Doll had just Lady Wrong. Psha ! a fig for his money! you baked a toast, and was going to drink it herself. have so many projects of late about money, since Sir Fran. Why, then, here's to thee, Dick! you are a parliament man. What! we must
[Drinks. make ourselves slaves to his impertinent hu Squire Rich. Thonk you, feyther. mours, eight or ten years, perhaps, in hopes to Lady Wrong. Lord, sir Francis, I wonder you be his heirs, and then he will be just old enough can encourage the boy to swill so much of that to marry his maid.
lubberly liquor!—it's enough to make him quite Moth. Nay, for that matter, madam, the town stupid. says he is going to be married already.
Squi Rich. Why, it never hurts me, mother ; Sir Fran. Who! cousin Manly?
and I sleep like a hawnd after it. Drinks: Lady Wrong. To whom, pray?
Sir Fran. I am sure I ha' drunk it these thirMoth. Why, is it possible your ladyship should ty years, and, by your leave, madam, I don't know nothing of it !—To my lord Townly's sis know that I want wit: ha, ha! ter, lady Grace.
Jenny. But you might have had a great deal Lady Wrong. Lady Grace !
you would have been governed by Moth. Dear madam, it has been in the news- my mother. papers !
Sir Fran. Daughter, he that is governed by Lady Wrong. I don't like that, neither. his wife, has no wit at all.
Sir Fran. Naw, I do; for then it's likely it Jenny. Then I hope I shall marry a fool, sir; mayn't be true.
for I love to govern, dearly. Lady Wrong. [Aside.)-If it is not too far Sir Fran. You are too pert, child; it den't do gone, at least it may be worth one's while to well in a young woman. throw a rub in his way.
Lady Wrong. Pray, sir Francis, don't snub Squire Rich. Pray, feyther, haw lung will it be her; she has a fine growing spirit, and, if you to supper?
check her so, you will make her as dull as her Sir Fran. Odso! that's true; step to the cook, brother there. lad, and ask what she can get us.
Squire Rich. After a long draught.-Indeert, Moth. If you please, sir, I'll order one of my mother, I think my sister is too forward. maids to shew her where she may have any thing Jenny. You! You think I'm too forward ! you have a mind to.
Sure, brother mud, your head's too heavy to Sir Fran. Thank you kindly, Mrs Motherly. think of any thing but your belly !
Squire Rich. Ods-flesh! What, is not it i' the Lady Irony. Well said, miss ! he's none of hawse yet-I shall be famished—But hawld! your master, though he is your. elder brother. I'll go and ask Doll, an' there's none o' the goose Squire Rich. No, nor she shawnt be my mis
tress, while she's younger sister. Sir Fran. Do so; and, do'st hear, Dick?-see Sir Fran. Well said, Dick! Shew 'em that if there's e'er a bottle o' the strong beer that stawt liquor makes a stawt heart, lad ! came i th' coach with us—if there be, clap a Squire Rich. So I will! and I'll drink agcen, toast in it, and bring it up.
for all her.
[Drinks Squire Rich. With a little nutmeg and sugar, shawn'a I, feyther?
Enter John Moody. Sir Fran. Aye, aye; as thee and I always Sir Fran. So, John, how are the horses? drink it for breakfast—Go thy ways! and I'll till J. Moody. Troth, sir, I ha' noa good opinion of a pipe i' th' mean while.
this tawn; it's made up o' mischief, I think. (Takes one from a pocket-case, and fills it. Sir Fran. What's the matter naw? Erit SQUIRE RICHARD.
J. Moody. Why, I'll tell your worship-before Lady Wrong. This boy is always thinking of we were gotten to th' street end, with the coach, his belly.
here, a great luggerheaded cart, with wheels as Sir I'ran. Why, my dear, you may allow him thick as a brick wall, laid hauld on't, and has to be a little hungry after his journey.
poo'd it aw to bits; crack went the perch! Lady Ml'rong. Nay, even breed him your own down goes the coach! and whang says the glas
ses, all to shivers ! Marcy upon us ! an this be I heard him say he would cross the same street London, would we were aw weel in the country again to-morrow; and if we had a mind to stand ageen!
in his way, he would pooll us over and over Jenny. What have you to do, to wish us all in again. the country again, Mr Lubber I hope we shall Sir Fran. Will he so? Odzooks! get me a not go into the country again these seven years, constable. mamma; let twenty coaches be pulled to pieces. Lady Wrong. Pooh! get you a good supper.
Sir Fran. Hold your tongue, Jenny! Was Ro- Come, sir Francis, don't put yourself in a heat ger in no fault in all this?
for what can't be helped. Accidents will happen J. Moody. Noa, sir, nor I, noather. Are not to people that travel abroad to see the worldyow ashamed, says Roger to the carter, to do For my part, I think it's a mercy it was not oversuch an unkind thing by strangers ? Noa, says he, turned before we were all out on't. you bumkin. Sir, he did the thing on very pur Sir Fran. Why ay, that's true again, my dear. pose! and so the folks said that stood by—. Very Lady Wrong. Therefore, see to-morrow if we well, says Roger, yow shall see what our mey- can buy one at second-hand, for present use; su ster will say to ye ! Your meyster, says he ; your bespeak a new one, and then all's easy. meyster may kiss my—and so he clapped his J. Moody. Why, troth, sir, I doan't think this hand just there, and like your worship. Flesh! could have held you above a day longer. I thought they had better breeding in this town. Sir Fran. D'ye think so, John?
Sir Fran. I'll teach this rascal some, I'll war J. Moody. Why, you ha' had it ever since your rant him! Odsbud! If I take him in hand, I'll worship were high sheriff. play the devil with him.
Sir Fran. Why, then, go and see what Doll Squire Rich. Aye, do, feyther; have him be- has got us for supper-and come and get off my fore the parliament.
[Erit Sir Fran. Sir Fran. Odsbud! and so I will-I will make Lady Wrong. In the mean time, miss, do you bin know why I am! Where does he live? step to Handy, and bid her get me some fresh J. Moody. I believe in London, sir.
[Erit LADY Wrong. Sir Fran. What's the rascal's name?
Jenny. Yes, mamma; and some for myself, J. Moody. I think I heard somebody call him
[Erit Jenny! Dick.
Squire Rich. Ods-flesh! and what mun I do Squire Rich. What, my name!
all alone? Sir Fran. Where did he go? J. Moody. Sir, he went home.
I'll e'en seek out where t'other pratty miss is, Sir Fran. Where's that?
And she and I'll go play at cards for kisses. J. Moody. By my troth, sir, I doan't know !
ACT III. .
SCENE I.-.LORD TOWNly's house.
Lord Town. No, truly—she is one of those Enter Lord Townty, a Servant attending.
orderly ladies, who never let the sun shine upon
any of their vices -But, prithee, sister, what Lord Town. Who's there?
humour is she in to-day? Ser. My lord ?
Lady Grace. Oh, in tip-top spirits, I can asLord Town. Bid them get dinner-lady Grace, sure you—she won a good deal last night. your servant.
Lord Town. I know no difference between her
winning or losing, while she continues her course Enter LADY GRACE.
of life. Lady Grace. What, is the house up already? Lady Grace. However, she is better in good My lady is not drest yet.
humour than bad. Lord Toan. No matter—it's three o'clock Lord Town. Much alike: when she is in good she may break my rest, but she shall not alter humour, other people only are the better for it; my hours.
when' in a very ill humour, then, indeed, I selLady Grace. Nay, you need not fear that now, dom fail to have my share of her. for she dines abroad.
Lady Gruce. Well, we won't talk of that now Lord Toun. That, I suppose, is only an ex -Does any body dine here? cuse for her not being ready yet:
Lord Town. Manly promised me-By the wav, Lady Grace. No, upon my word, she is enga- madam, what do you think of his last conversaged in company.
tion? Lord Town. Where, pray?
Lady Grace. I am a little at a stand about it. Lady Grace. At my lady Revel's ; and you Lord Town. How so? know they never dine till supper-time.
Lady Grace. Why—I don't know how he can Vol II.
ever' have any thoughts of me, that could lay Lord Town. I can't think there's any fear of down such severe rules upon wives in my hear-that. ng
Lady Grace. Pray, what is it you do think, Lord Town. Did you think his rules unreason- then? able?
Lord Town. Why, certainly, that it's much Lady Grace. I can't say I did; but he might more probable this letter may be all an artifice, have had a little more complaisance before me, than that he is in the least concerned in itat least. Lord Town. Complaisance is only a proof of
Enter a Servant. good breeding, but his plainness was a certain Ser. Mr Manly, my lord. proof of his honesty; nay, of his good opinion of Lord Town. Do you receive him, while I step you: for he would never have opened himself so a minute in to my lady. [Erit Lord Townty. frecly, but in confidence that your good sense could not be disobliged at it.
Enter Manly. Lady Grace. My good opinion of him, brother, Man. Madam, your most obedient; they told has hitherto been guided by yours : but I have re me my lord was here. ceived a letter this morning, that shews him a Lady Grace. He will be here presently; he is very different man from what I thought him. but just gone in to my sister. Lord Town. A letter! from whom?
Nlan. So, then, my lady dines with us? Lady Grace. That I don't know; but there it Lady Grace. No; she is engaged. is.
[Gives a letter. Mun. I hope you are not of her party, madam? Lord Town. Pray, let's see. (Reads.] “The in Ludy Grace. Not till after dinner. closed, madam, fell accidentally into my hands; Man. And, pray, how may she have disposed “if it no way concerns you, you will only have of the rest of the day?
the trouble of reading this, from your sincere Ludy Grace. Much as usual; she has visits friend, and humble servant, Unknown,' &c. till about eight; after that, till court-time, she is Lady Grace. And this was the inclosed. to be at quadrille, at Mrs Idle's; after the draw
[Gives another. ing-room, she takes a short supper with my lady Lord Town. [Reads.) To Charles Manly, Moonlight; and, from thence, they go together Esq.—Your manner of living with me of late, to my lord Noble's assembly. convinces me that I now grow as painful to you Man. And are you to do all this with her, ma* as to myself: but, however, though you can dain?
love me no longer, I hope you will not let me Lady Grace. Only a few of the visits : I would, "live worse than I did, before I left an honest indeed, have drawn her to the play ; but I doubt • income for the vain hopes of being ever yours. we have so much upon our hands, that it will not
MYRTILLA Dupe.' be practicable. · P. S. 'Tis above four months since I received Man. But how can you forbear all the rest • a shilling from you.'
of it? Lady Grace. What think you now?
Lady Grace. There's no great merit in forLord Town. I am considering
bearing what one is not charmed with. Lady Grace. You see it's directed to him Man. And, yet, I have found that very diiñi
Lord Town. That's true; but the postscript cult in my time. seems to be a reproach that I think he is not ca Lady Grace. How do you mean? pable of deserving.
Man. Why, have passed a great deal of my Lady Grace. But who could have concern life in the hurry of the ladies, though I was geenough to send it to me?
nerally better pleased when I was at quiet withLord Toren. I have observed that these sort of out them. letters, from unknown friends, generally come Lady Grace. What induced you, then, to be from sccret enemies.
with them? Ludy Grace. What would you have me do in Man. Idleness, and the fashion. it!
Lady Grace. No mistresses in the case ? Lord Town. What I think you ought to do Man. To speak honestly--yes-Being often fairly shew it to him, and say I advised you to it in the toy-shop, there was no forbearing the bau
Ludy Grace. Will not that have a very odd bles. look from me?
Lady Grace. And of course, I suppose, somneLord Town. Not at all, if you use my name times you were tempted to pay for them twice as in it; if he is innocent, his impatience to appear much as they were worth? so will discover his regard to you.
If he is Blan. Why, really, where fancy only makes guilty, it will be the best way of preventing his the choice, madam, no wonder if we are geneaddresses
rally bubbled in those sort of bargains; which, I Ludy Grace. But what pretence have I to put confess, has been often my case : for I had colhim out of countenance?
stantly some coquette or other upon my bands,