Slip. The same, i'faith! Mar. 'Tis he, as I live! Slip. My friend, happily met ! Mar. My dear, I embrace you ?-Not see Mar. I AM sick as a dog of being a valeting you among the beau-monde, I was afraid running after other people's business, and neglecting my own—— -this low life is the devil! -I've had a taste for the gentleman, and shall never lose it, 'Tis thy own fault, my little Martin! Thou would'st always play small games; when, had you but had the face to put yourself forward a little, some well jointured widow had taken you into her post-chariot, and made your fortune at once. A fellow of my wit and spirit should have broke twice, and set up again by this time. Enter SLIP. Slip. Hey! is not that, that rascal, Martin, yonder? Mar. Can that be my modest friend, Slip? there had been some fresh misunderstanding between you and the law. Slip. Faith! my dear, I have had a narrow escape, since I saw you, I had like to have been preferred in some of our settlements abroad, but I found there was no doing the business by deputy, so Mar. Did not accept of the place, ba!why what little mischief had'st thou been at? (I Slip. Why, I don't know-meeting one night with a certain Portuguese Jew-merchant, in one of the back streets here by the exchange was a little in liquor I believe-piping hot from a turtle-feast) it came into my giddy head to stop him, out of mere curiosity, to ask what news from Germany-nothing more, and the fellow, not understanding good English, would needs have it, that I asked him for something else— He bawl'd out, up came the watch, down was I laid in the kennel, and then carried before a magistrate-He clapped me on a stone doublet, that I could not get off my back for two months. Mar. Two months, say you? Slip. And there I might have rotted, if I had not had great friends; a certain lady of quality's woman's cousin, that was kept by Mr. Quirk, of Thavies-Inn, you must know, was in love with me, and she Mar. Brought you in not guilty, I warrant. Oh! great friends is a great matter. Slip. This affair really gave me some serious reflexions. Mar. No doubt, it spoiled you for a newsmonger: no more intelligence from foreign countries, hey! Slip. Well but, Martin! what's thy history since I saw thee! Mar. Um ! a novel only, sir: why, I am ashamed to say it: I am but an honorary rascal, as well as yourself. I did try my luck, indeed, at Epsoin, and Newmarket; but the knowing ones were taken in, and I was obliged to return to service again. But a master without money, implies a servant without wages; I am not in love with my condition, I promise you. a Slip. I am with mine, I assure you: I am retired from the great world-that's my taste now -and live in the country, with one Mr. HarLowe-piping hot from his travels. 'Tis charming young fellow! Drinking, hunting, and wenching, my boy !-a man of universal knowledge. Then I am his privy counsellor, and we always play the devil together. That amuses one, you know, and keeps one out of mischief. Mar. Yes, pretty lambs! But what makes you in London now? whither are you bound? Slip. To yonder great house. Mar. What, Mr. Stockwell's? Slip. The same. You must know his daughter is engaged to my master. Mar. Ay, he's dying for the-twenty thou sand-that's all- but since your master[Going. Slip. Oh! there you're safe enough; my master will never marry Miss Stockwell: there happens to be a small rub in the way. Mar. What rub? Slip. Only married already. Slip. Why, his father would marry him here in town, it seems, and he-chose to be married in the country-that's all. The truth is, our young gentleman managed matters with the young lady so ill, or so well, that, upon his father's return, there was hot consulting among the relations; and the lady being of a good family, and having a smart fighting fellow of a brother in the army-why, my master, who hates quarrelling, spoke to the old gentleman, and the affair's hushed up by a marriage, that's all. Mar. Um! an entire new face of affairs! Slip. My master's wedding-cloaths, and mine, are all ordered for the country, and I am to follow them, as soon as I have seen the family here, and redeemed my old master's promise, that lies in pawn. Mar. Old master's promise!-let me think— Slip. 'Twas what brought me to town, or I had not shook my honest friend by the fist. Martin, good morrow!-what in the dumps ?—we shall meet again, man. Mar. Let me alone, I have a thought-bark you, my dear? is thy master known to old Stockwell? Slip. Never saw him in his life. Mar. That's brave, my boy!-[Hits him a slap on the back.]-Art thou still a cock of the game, Slip? and shall we?—No; I doubt―I doubt that damned Jew-merchant sticks in thy stomach, and you are turned dunghill, you dog! Slip. Try me. A good sailor won't die a dry death at land for one hurricane. Speak out! you would pass your master upon the family for mine, and marry him to the lady? is not that the trick? Mar. Miss Stockwell to your master? Slip. Tis not above six weeks ago, that my master's father, sir Harry Harlowe, was here Mar. That! I have a trick worth two on't; I upon a visit to his old friend, and then the mat-know Miss Nancy is a girl of taste, and I have a prettier fellow in my eye for her. Slip. Ay, who's he? ter was settled between them-quite à la mode, I assure you. Mar. How do you mean? Slip. The old folk struck the bargain, without the consent of the young ones, or even their seeing one another. Mar. Tip top, I assure you; and every thing's agreed? Slip. Signed and sealed by the two fathers; the lady and her fortune both ready to be delivered. Twenty thousand, you rogue !-ready rhino down! and only wait for young master to write a receipt. Mar. Whew! Then my young master may e'en make a leg to his fortune, and set up his staff somewhere else. Slip. Thy master. Mar. Myself, you puppy! [Slaps him on the back. Mar. I'm in love with her toSlip. To the value of twenty thousand pounds? I approve your flame. Mar. I will take the name and shape of your master. Slip. Very well! Mar. Marry Miss Stockwell. Mur. Touch the twenty thousand. Mar. And disappear before matters come to an eclaircissement. Slip, Um! That article wants a little expla- into my heart, and if I consent to marry this nation, my honest friend. Mar. How so? Slip. You talk of disappearing with the lady's fortune, and never mention Slip in the treaty. Mar. Oh! we shall disappear together, to be sure. I have more honour than to go without you. Slip. Well, on that condition, I am content to play your back hand. But hold, hold! how will you pass yourself for my master, in a family where you are so much known? first Mar. Hold your fool's tongue-this is my visit to them. I returned but yesterday to my master. You must know, I asked his leave to be absent a week, and I made free with a month: 'twas a party of pleasure, so I made bold. During my absence, he saw this lady, liked her person, adored her fortune, and now, by my help, hopes to be in possession of both in a few days. Slip. And you'll do the lady the honour to help her to a better match? Mar. She'll think so, I believe. Slip. Well said, conceit !-But what sort of people are your father and mother-in-law? Mar. I am told he is a mere citizen, who, thinking himself very wise, is often outwitted; and his lady has as much vanity in her way; will never be old, though turned of sixty; and as ir resolute and capricious as a girl of fifteen. And Miss, I suppose, is like all other misses, wants to be her own mistress, and her husband's; and, in the mean time, is governed by her chambermaid, who will be too hard for us both, if we don't look about us. Slip. But harkye! what shall we do with the old gentleman's letter that I'm to deliver? This will knock us all up! Mar. Write another. Slip. That's easier said than done--but I'll do my best, as you can't write. Mar. Do you see after my wedding-cloaths, that they do not set out for the country. have no time to lose. We Slip. My master's will fit you to a hair. And the twenty thousand are our own. SCENE II.-An Apartment in MR. STOCK- Iman, 'twill be the death of me. Advise me then, and don't be so teazing. Jen. Lud! What advice can I give you? I have but two in the world; one is, to forget your lover, and t'other, to disobey your father. You have too much love to take the one, and I too much conscience to give t'other; so we are just where we were, madam. Nan. Don't torment me, Jenny. Jen. Why, I fancy we might find a way to re concile your love and my conscience. Nan. How, how, my dear girl! Jen. Supose we were to open the affair to your mamma? Nan. Nay, now your jesting is cruel. Jen. I never was more in earnest, madam. She loves flattery dearly; and she loves her daughter dearly. I'll warrant, with a sigb, and a tear, and a handkerchief, she makes her hus band break his word with young Harlowe in a quarter of an hour after his arrival. Nan. Not unlikely; but if Jen. What, at your ifs, no doubts, I beg, where I am concerned. Nan. But you know my poor mother is so unsettled a creature. the last Jen. Why, that's true enough; speaker is her oracle, so let us lose no time to bring her over to--Hark! Here she comes-do you retire, till I have prepared her for you. [Erit NANCY. Enter MRS. STOCKWELL. Well, of all the women in London, sure there never was such a temper as my lady's. Mrs. Stock. What can have set this girl against me? [Aside. Jen. Such good humour, and good sense together, seldom meet-then such a perpetual smile upon her features! Well, her's is a sort of a face that can never grow old; what would I give for such a lasting face as she has! Mrs. Stock Hussy, hussy! you're a flatterer! [Taps her on the shoulder. Jen. Ah!--Madam, is it you? I vow you, made me start. Miss Nancy and I had just been talking of you, and we agreed you were one of the best of women, the most reasonable, friend, the tenderest mother, and the-the the Mrs. Stock. Nay, that's too much. I have my failings, and my virtues too, Jenny-in one thing, indeed, I am very unlike other women; I always hearken to reason. Jen. That's what I said, madam. Mrs. Stock. I am neither headstrong nor fantastical; neither— Jen. No, sweet lady, the smallest twine may lead you. Miss, says I, hear reason, like your mamma; will so good a mother, do you think, force her daughter to marry against her inclination? Enter MISS NANCY and JENNY. Mrs. Stock. I force my child's inclinations! Nan. You know, Jenny, that Belford has got No, I make the case my own. But tell me, (there's a good girl) has my daughter an aversion to young Harlowe ? Jen. I don't say that, madam,-that is-aversion to be sure-but I believe she hates him like the devil. Mrs. Stock. Poor thing! poor thing! and perhaps her little heart is beating for another? Jen. Oh, that's a certain rule! when a young woman hates her husband, 'tis taken for granted she loves another man. For example, you yourself, as you have often told me, hated the sight of Mr. Stockwell, when first he was proposed for your husband.-Why? only because you were in love, poor lady, with captain-you know who-that was killed at the siege-you know where. Mrs. Stock. Why will you name him, Jenny? [Wipes her eyes. Jen. Tender lady! Mrs. Stock. Why, indeed, had that fine young creature survived his wounds, I should never have married Mr. Stockwell, that I will say. Jen. Then you know how to pity your daugh Stock. Hey! that's chopping about, indeed! Mrs. Stock. Nay, but, my dear, hear me, and let us reason a little; here's a better offer for Nancy-Belford has asked her of me. Stock. Belford a better ! Mrs. Stock, Nay, but don't be obstinate, child! he is not, indeed, so rich as the other but what are riches to content, Mr. Stockwell Stock. And what is content without riches, Mrs. Stockwell? Mrs. Stock. But he's a gentleman, my dear, and, out of regard to his family, we may very well excuse his fortune. Jen. Well said, madam! this will do. [Aside. Stock. Ha, ha, ha! that's because you were a gentlewoman-but I, being a downright cit, think just the reverse; and, out of regard to his fortune, if he had one, might excuse his family. I have no great objection to the man; but is not our word and honour engaged to another? Mrs. Stock. Eh! that's true, indeed! butStock. Has my old friend, Sir Harry Harlowe, ter. Her heart suffers now, what yours did-done any thing tobefore that siege, madam. Mrs. Stock. Say you so? poor girl! and who is it has found the way to her heart ? Jen. No other than the young gentleman that has been so constant at cards with you lately. Mrs. Stock. Who, Belford? Jen. The same, and a fine spirited young fellow it is. Enter Miss NANCY. Nan. Pardon my folly, my misfortune, dear madam, if I cannot conform in all my sentiments with your's, and my father's Mrs. Stock. It will happen, child, sometimes, that a daughter's heart may not be disposed to comply exactly with the views and schemes of a parent; but then, a parent should act with tenderness. My dear, I pity your distress: Belford has my approbation, I assure you. Nan. You are too good, madam! Jen. Your approbation is not enough, madam; will you answer for master's too? He's a stubborn bit of stuff, you know; he will not always hearken to reason, : Mrs. Stock. But he shall, Jenny stubborn as he is, I'll soften him. I'll take Belford under my protection-Here comes my husbandI have taken my resolution, and you shall see how I'll bring him about presently. Enter MR. STOCKWELL. My dear, you're come in the very nick of time; I have just changed my mind. Stock. You are always changing it, I think. Mrs. Stock. I always hearken to reason, Mr. Stockwell. Stock. Well, and which way does the wind set now? Mrs. Stock. Why, I have taken a resolution not to marry my daughter to young Harlowe. Mrs. Stock. I don't accuse him, my dear. Mrs. Stock. Never fear, Jenny.} [Aside. Nan. But I have never seen him, papa. Mrs. Stock. No, Mr. Stockwell, she has never seen him. Stock. So much the better, Mrs. Stockwell; he'll be a greater novelty, and please her the better and the longer for it. Mrs. Stock. There is some reason in that, Jenny. Jen. Is there, madam, then I have not a bit about me. Nan. But to marry without inclination, sir! think of that. Mrs. Stock. Ay, think of that, Mr. Stockwell. Stock. I never thought of it for myself, nor you neither, my dear; and why should our daughter think herself wiser than her parents? Mrs. Stock, Ay, why, indeed?-there's no answering that, Jenny. Jen. I see there is not-What a woman! hanged if this is not my son-in-law's servant.Now, girl, we shall hear. Enter SLIP, in a hurry. Slip. Ladies and gentlemen, I am come-let me recover my breath-I come-Oh! I come with mine, and my master's compliments to your honour, and my lady, our best love and services to pretty miss, and-madam, I'm your obedient Black-a-moor. Stock. [Reading] I look upon this con[To JENNY.juncture of our families.' Conjuncture!-a very odd phrase! Stock. Um! the fellow has humour, I promise you. Well, sirrah, where's your master? Slip. My master and your son, is on his way to throw himself at the feet of this angelic creature. His impatience, Madam, can equal nothing but your beauty. Stock. Well, but where is he, where is he? Slip. He's but just arrived from the country; he treads upon my heels, and I had only the start of him to tell you, that he will but whip on clean linen, and wait on you in the snapping of a finger. Stock. Oh, fie upon him! what need all this ceremony between us! why did not he come hither directly? He knows he may make my house his own. Slip. Oh, sir, he designs it, but the first time -pardon me, sir-He knows the world better than to treat you so cavalierly as that--No, no; he's not that man, I can assure you; though I'm his valet, yet I'll give the devil his due. Mrs. Stock. Is he so extremely well bred ? Slip. Sir, I grieve to tell it you; such was his design, but an unforeseen accident has prevented him; which, I assure you, gives him great pain. Stock. Ay! what's the matter? Slip. The gout, sir, the gout! Mrs. Stock. Poor gentleman! Slip. He was seized in his right foot, the evening before we set out, but-I have a letter from [Gives a letter. Stock. [Puts on his spectacles and reads.] him. To doctor, doctor Clackit, physician, near St. Slip. Lud, lud! that's not it-[Takes out letters.] Let me see! Stock. St. Sepulchre's church!-I find the doctor chuses to live among his patients. I Slip, Eh, eh! that's so good! you're a very wag, sir!-He, he, be!-let me see-Oh, here's one like it.-To Mr. Stockwell; the same. am afraid you'll hardly be able to make it out -shall I read it to you? Oh, this unlucky gout! Stock. I see it has affected his hands, tooWhy 'tis scarce legible; and ill spelt, too. Slip. The gout, sir, may it never affect you, sir, nor madam Stockwell, Miss Nancy, that young woman there, nor any of the good company. Slip. The gout, dear sir, the gout! He's quite another man in it. 6 Stock. I look upon this conjuncture of our 'families, as the comfort of my age-The sooner it is done the more comfort Ï shall have—I 'don't doubt but you'll like my son, whom I have sent with a most trusty and faithful servant, 'who deserves your friendship and favour.' Slip. O law, sir!-I am quite ashamed. Stock. I am, my dear brother, yours, &c. till 'death. HENRY HARLOWE.' I am very sorry, sir, we can't have the old gentleman's company. But who is this gay young fellow coming towards us?-Can this be my son-in-law? Slip. What the devil should ail him? Look at him, Miss; observe him, madam-Is not he a pretty fellow? Stock. What is he doing! Slip. Only paying his chairman-Generous as a prince. [To JENNY. Stock. Not ill made, indeed!-You'll only be too happy, child. Nancy. I wish I could think so, madam. Enter MARTIN, as young HARLOWE. Mar. Mr. Stockwell, I presume, my illustrious father Slip. The same, sir, in proprium personum. Stock. My dear son, welcome! let me embrace you. Mar. You do me too much honour; my superabundant joy is too inexpressible to express the-This I flatter myself [To MRS. STOCKWELL.] is the brilliant beauty, destined to the arins of happy Mart-Harlowe-Gad! I'd like to have forgot my own name. [Aside. Nancy. An impertinent absurd coxcomb! [Aside. Stock. Nay, nay, son-in-law, not so fast; that's my wife. Here's my daughter Nancy. Mar. A fine creature! [Salutes her.] Madam, I have seen the world! and from all the world, here would I chuse a wife, and a mistress -a family of beauties; let me die! Stock. Excessively gallant! He has wit, I assure you, daughter. |