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go to bed,
Paint. Fait, let me have one merry quarter | Heao'n bless her sweet face! 'lis a sight for the of an hour before we at it again, and it will be
lovely queen ; no loss of time neither—we will make the next For lords, and for earls, and for gentlefolks too, quarter after, as good as an hour—and so his And the busy beau monde, who have nothing to honour and the sham-pater will gain by the do. loss.
Then away to champétre, &c. 1st Gar. Well said, O'Daub! and if
you give us the song you made, the quarter of an hour will be merrier still.
While'tis light, you'll see nothing, when darker,
O then you'll see, Arch. Can you rhime, O'Daub? ference is, I'do one with a brush, and t'other The moon and the stars, they may twinkle end
Paint. Yes, fait, as well as paint—all the dif- That the darker it is, the more light it will with a pen; I do one with my head, and both with my hands—and if any of the poets of them we can make better sunshine, than such as they all can produce better rhymes and raisins too
eder made, within the gardens, I'll be content to bave one
Then away to champétre, &c. of my own brushes rammed down my throat, and so spoil me for a singer, as well as a poet, hereafter.
Such crowds and confusions, such uproar and such Arch. Well said, master Painter !
With lamps hung by thousunds, to turn day into Enter the several Tradesmen.
Dutchmen, so bright and gay,
And they'll all be so fine, they'll have nothing at [Irish tune.]
Then away to champêtre, &e. Then away to champétre, champétre come all Then let's take a drink to the 'Squire of the Jolly away,
Oaks, To work at Champétre is nothing at all but May no crabbed critics come here with their gibes play;
or jokes. As I know nothing of it, no more, my dear, will If they did I could make the dear creaters soon
change their notes, But Champétre for ever! for ever! and ay, I With my little black brush, I could sweep clean say?
their noisy throats!
Then away to champétre, &c You may guess what a sight, for it never has yet
all to say.
my power to gratify, I hope, in this last hour of gallantry at once in this country, if it was not of my cares, I shall not be a stranger to it. for the sake of reputation.
Nİaria. If I have a wish you have not in Old. What do you mean? dulged, sir, I fear it must have been an impro Lady Bub. Why, that a woman, without a per one, or it would not have escaped you. connection, grows every day a more awkward
Old. You seem disconcerted, Maria, be more personage; one might as well go into company explicit.
without powder—if one does not really despise Maria. My mind is incapable of reserve with old vulgar prejudices, it is absolutely necessary you; the nost generous of men, is on the to affect it, or one must sit at home alone. point of giving his hand to your—what shall Old. Indeed! I call myself? I am almost nameless, but as Lady Bab. Yes, like Lady Sprose, and talk the creature of your bounty and cares, this morals to the parrot. title gives me a value in my own eyes; but I Maria. This is new, indeed; I always supposfear it is all I have to boast.' The mystery you ed, that in places where freedom of manners have kept, makes me apprehensive there is was most countenanced, a woman of unimpeachsomething in my origin ought to be concealed ed conduct carried a certain respect.
-what am I to interpret from your smiles? Lady Bab. Only fit for sheepwalks and Old. Every thing that is contrary to your sur- oakeries !-I beg your pardon, Mr. Oldworthmises: be patient, sweet Maid of the Oaks; be in town it would just raise you to the wliist fore night, all mysteries shall be cleared. It is party of old Lady Cypher, Mrs. Squabble, and not an ordinary wedding I celebrate, I prepare Lord Flinzy; and at every public place, you a feast for the heart-Lady Bab Lardoon, as would stand amongst the fouimen to call your I live !--the princess of dissipation! catch an own chair, while all the macaronies passed by, observation of her while you can, Maria; for whistling a song through their toothpicks, and though she has been but three days out of Lon giving a shrug dem it, 'tis pity that so fine a don, she is as uneasy as a mole in suoshine, and womau should be lost to all common decenwould expire, if she did not soon dive into her cy.' old element again.
Maria. (Siniling.) I believe I had better stay
in the oakery, as you call it ; for I am afraid Í Enter LADY BAB.
shall never procure any civility in town, upon
the terms required. Lady Bab. Dear Maria, I am happy to be the
Lady Bab. Oh, my dear, you have chose a first of your company to congratulate you horrid word to express the intercourse of the Well, Nr. Oldworth, I am delighted with the bon ton ; civility may be very proper in a meridea of your fête; it is so novel, so French, so
cer, when one is chusing a silk, but familiarity expressive of what every body understands, and is the life of good company. I believe this is no body can explain; then there is something quite new since your time, Mr. Oldworth, but so spirited in an undertaking of expense, where 'tis by far the greatest improvement the beau a shower of rain would spoil it all.
monde ever made. Old. I did not expect to escape from so fine Old. A certain ease was always an essential a lady, but you and the world have free leave part of good breeding ; but Lady Bab must exto comment upon all you see here.
plain her meaning a little further, before we can
decide upon the improvement. Laugh where you inust, be candid where you Lady Bub. I mean that participation of so
ciety, in which the French used to excel, and
we have now so much outdone our modelsI only hope that to celebrate a joyful event I maintain, that among the superior set-mind, upon any plan, that neither hurts the morals, I only speak of them-our men and women are or politeness of the company, and at the same put more upon a footing together in London, time, sets thousands of the industrious to work, than they ever were before in any age or councannot be thought blame worthy.
try. Lady Bab. Oh, quite the contrary, and I am Old. And, pray, bow has this happy revolusure it will have a run; a force upon the sea- tion been effected ? sons and the manners is the true test of a refin Lady Bab. By the most charming of all instied tast, and it holds good from a cucumber at tutions, wherein we shew the world, that liberty Christmas, to on Italian opera:
is as well understood by our women, as by our Maria. Is the rule the same among the ladies, nien; we have our Bill of Rights and our ConLady Bab? is it also a definition of their refine-stitution too, as well as they-we drop in at all ment to act in all things contrary to nature? hours, play at all parties, pay our own reckon
Lady Bab. Not absolutely in all things, ings, and in every circumstance (petticoats exthough more so than people are apt to imagine; cepted) are true, lively, jolly fellows. for even in circumstances that seem most na Maria, But does not this give occasion to a tural, fashion prompts ten times, where inclina- thousand malicious insinuations? tion prompts once; and there would be an end Lady Bab. Ten thousand, my dear-but no
great measures can be effected without a con- | plague a man, and to bury him; the glory is to tempt of popular clamour.
plague him first, and bury him afterwards. Old. Paying of reckonings is, I confess, new Sir Har. I heartily congratulate Lady Bab, since my time; and I should be afraid it might and all who are to partake of ber conversation, sometimes be a little heavy upon a lady's upon her being able to bring so much vivacity is pocket.
the country; Ludy Bab. A mere trifle-one generally wins Lady Bab. Nothing but the fête champétre them-Jack Saunter of the Guards, lost a hun- could have effected it, for I set out in miserdred and thirty to me upon score at one time; able spirits - I had a horrid run before I I have not eat him out yet-He will keep me left town—I suppose, you saw my name in the best part of next winter ; but exclusive of that, papers ? the club is the greatest system of economy for Sir Har. I did, and therefore concluded there inarried families ever yet established.
was not a word of truth in the report. Old. Indeed ! but how so, pray?
Maria. Your name in the papers, Lady Bab! Lady Bab. Why, all the servants may be put for what, pray? to board wages, or sent into the country, ex Lady Bab. The old story—it is a mark or incept the footman-No plunder of housekeepers, significance now, to be left out-Have not they or maitres de hotel, no long butcher's bills begun with you yet, Maria? Lady Squander protests she has wanted no pro Mariu. Not that I know of; and I am not at vision in her family these six months, except all ambitious of the honour. potatoes to feed the children, and a few frogs Lady Bab. Oh, but you will have it the fece for the French governness—then our dinner so-champétre will be a delightful subject !—To be cieties are so amusing, all the doves and hawks complimented one day, laughed at the next, and together, and one converses so freely; there's no abused the third ;
-you can't imagine how topic of White's or Alınack's, in which we do amusing it is to read one's own nawe at breaknot bear a part.
fast in a morning paper. Maria. Upon my word, I should be a little Maria, Pray, how long may your ladyship afraid, that some of those subjects might not al- have been accustomed to ibis pleasure ? ways be managed with sufficient delicacy for a Lady Bab. Lord, a great while, and in all its ady's ear, especially an unmarried one.
stages : they first begau with a modest inuendo, Lady Bub. Bless me! wby where's the differ- We hear a certain lady, not a hundred miles ence? Miss must have had a strange education from Hanover Square, lost at one sitting, some indeed, not to know as much as her chapron : I nights ago, two thousand guineas-0 teinpora! hope you will not have the daughters black o mores! balled, when the mothers are chose: why it is Old. (Laughing.] Pray, Lady Bab, is this almost the only place where some of them are concluding ejaculation your own, or was it the likely to see each other.
Lady Bab. His, you may be sure-a dab
of Latin adds surprising force to a paragrapb, Enter Sie HARRY GROVEBY.
besides shewing the learning of the author. Sir Har. I come to claim my lovely bride
Old. Well but really I don't see such a great here at ber favourite tree I claim her mine ! matter in this ; why should you suppose any -the hour is almost on the point, the whole body applied this paragraph to you? country is beginning to assemble; every prepa
Lady Bub. None but my intimates did, for it ration of Mr. Oldworth’s fancy is preparing,
was applicable to half St. George's parish-but
about a week after, they honoured me with iniAnd while the priest accuse the bride's delay, cess still continues at the quinze table: It was
tials and italics: • It is said, Lady B. L's ill sucRoses and myriles shall obstruct her way.
observed, the same lady appeared yesterday at
court, in a ribband collar, having laid aside her Maria. Repugnance would be affectation, diamond necklace (diamond in italics) as totally my heart is all your own, and I scorn the look bourgeoise and unnecessary for the dress of a or action that does not avow it.
woman of fashion.' Old. Come, Sir Harry, leave your protesta Old. To be sure this was advancing a little in tions, which my girl does not want, and see a familiarity. fair stranger.
Lady Bab. At last, to my infinite amuseLady Bab. Sir Harry, I rejoice at your hap- ment, out I came at full length : Lady Bab piness and do not think me so tasteless, Maria, Lardoon has tumbled down three nights succesas not to acknowledge attachment like yours, sively; a certain colonel has done the same, and preferable to all others, when it can be had we hear that both parties keep house with filer le perfait amour ; is the first bappiness in sprained ancles.' lite : But that you know is totally out of the Old. The last paragraph sounds a liule enig. question in town; the matrimonial comforts in matical. our way, are absolutely reduced to two-to Maria. And do you really feel no resentment
at all this?
Lady Bab. Resentment !--poor silly devils, if | Hurry. Lord, sir! 'twas impossible to keep they did but know with what thorough contempt them out. those of my circle trcat a remonstrance
Old. Impossible ! why, I am sure they did not But, hark! I hear the pastoral's beginning. knock you down. [ Music behind.] Lord, I hope I shall find a Hurry. No, but they did worse—for the pretshepherd !
ty maids smiled and sinirked, and were so coaxOld. The most elegant one in the world, Mr. ing; and they called me dear Hurry, and sweet Dupeley, Sir Harry's friend.
Hurry, and one called me pretty Ilurry, and I Lady Bab. You don't mean Charles Dupeley, did but just open the door a moment, Aesh and who has been so long abroad?
blood could not resist it, and so they all rushed Sir Har. The very same-but I'm afraid he by. will never do, he is but half a macaroni.
Old. Ay, and now we shall have the whole Lady Bub. And very possibly the worst half: crowd of the country break in. it is a vulgar idea to think foreign accomplish Hurry. No, sir, no, never be afraid ; we keep ments fit a man for the polite world.
out all the old ones. Sir Har. Lady Bab, I wish you would under Sir Har. Ay, here they come across the lawn take him; he seems to have contracted all the --I agree with Hurry, flesh and blood could not common-place affectation of travel, and thinks stop them-Joy and gratitude are overbearing bimself quite an overmatch for the fair sex, of arguments, and they must have their course. whoin his opinion is as ill founded as it is de Hurry. Now, Sir Harry !-now your ladygrading.
ship !---you shall see such dancing, and hear Lady Bab. Oh, is that his turn? what, he has such singing! been studying some late posthumous letters, I suppose ?—'would be a delight to make a fool Enter First Shepherd, very gaily, followed by a of such a fellow !--where is he?
Group of Shepherds and Shepherdesses. Sir Har. He is only gone to dress; I appointed to meet him on the other side the grove; he'll be here in twenty ninutes.
SONG. Lady Bab. I'll attend him there in your place I have it-I'll try ny hand a little at nuiveté he never saw me--the dress I am going to put on for the fête will do admirably to im
Hither, ye swains, with dance and song, pose upon him-I'll make an exainple of his
Join your bunds in sportive measure ; hypocrisy, and his graces, and his usage du
Hither, ye swains, with dance and song, monde.
Merily, merily, trip it along : Sir Har. My life for it, he will begin an ac
"Tis holiday, lads, from the cares of your quaintance with you.
tillaye, Lady Bab. If he don't, I'll begin with him, There are two characters under which one may
Life, health, and joy, to the lord of the
village. say any thing to a man--that of perfect assur
Scenes of delight, ance, and of perfect innocence : Maria may be the best critic of the last-but under the ap
Round you invite,
Harmony, beauty, love and pleasure : pearance of it, lord have mercy !-I have heard
Hither, ye swains, with dance and song, aud seen such things!
hands in sportive measure. Enter Hurry, running. Hurry. Here they come!-here they come!
Hither ye swains, 8c. -give ihem room !-pray, sir, stand a little back-a little further, your honourable ladyship, let the happy couple stand foremost-here they come!
Hither ye nymphs, and scatter around, Old, And, pray, when you can find breath
Every sweet the spring discloses ; to be understood, who or what is coming,
Hilher, ye nymphs, and scatter them round, Ilurry?
With the bloom of the hour enamel the Hurry. All the cleverest lads and girls that
ground: could be picked out within ten miles round;
The feast of the day is devoted to beauty, they have garlands in one hand, and roses in
Sorrow is treason, and pleasure a duty: another, and their pretty partners in another,
Love shall preside, and some are singing, and all so merry !
Sovereign guide! Old, Stand still, Hurry-I foresaw you would
Fetier his wings with links of roses : be a sad master of the ceremonies; why, they should not have appeared till the lawn was full
Hither, ye nymphs, and scatter around,
Every sweet the spring discloses. of company; they were to have danced there - you let them in too soon by an hour.
Groce. None at all, if you do as I bid you. SCENE I.--The Garden Gate.
Hurry. That I will, to be sure. I hope you Hurry. [Without.] Indeed, sir, we can't! it are come to be merry, sir.
[Erit. is as much as our places are worth: pray don't
Grove. O, ay to be sure-It is true, I see; I insist it.
come at the very instant of his perdition--whe upon
ther I succeed or not, I shall do my duty, and Enter Old GROVEBY, booted and splash'd,
let other folks be merry if they like it-Going to
be married ! and to whom? to a young girl, pushing in Hurry.
without birth, fortune, or without any body's Grove, I must see Sir Harry Groveby, and I knowing anything about her; and without will see him. Do ye think ye Jackanapes, that so much as saying to me, his uncle, with your I come to rob the house?
leave, or by your leave : If he will prefer the Hurry. That is not the case, sir; nobody indulgence of a boyish passion, to my affection visits my master to day without tickets; all the and two thousand pounds per annum ; let him world will be here, and how shall we find room be as merry as he pleases. I shall return to for all the world, if people were to come how Gloomstock-hall and make a new will directly. they please, and when they please?
Grove. What have you a stage play here, that one cannot be admitted without a ticket?
SCENE II-À Grove. Hurry. As you don't know what we have here to-day, I must desire you to come to-morrow
Enter MARIA. Sir Harry won't see you tn-day, he has a great deal of business upon bis hands; and you can't
Maria. I wish I may have strength to sup.. be admitted without a ticket; and moreover you
port my happiness; I cannot get the better of are in such a pickle; and nobody will be admit- my agitation; and though this day is to comted but in a fanciful dress.
plete my wishes, my heart, I don't know how, Grove. This is a dress after my own fancy, sir
feels something like distress—But what strange rah; and whatever pickle I am in, I will put you ted in that strange dress?
person is coming this way? How got he admitin a worse, if you don't immediately shew me to Sir Harry Groveby. [Shaking his whip.
Grove. Madam, your servant: I hope I don't Grove. I would have a sight of him before he intrude: I am waiting here for a young gentlegoes to be married. I shall mar his marriage, I man -If I disturb you, I'll walk at the other believe. [Aside.] I am his uncle, puppy, and end. ought to be at the wedding.
Maria. Indeed, sir, you don't disturb me. Hurry. Are you so, sir? Bless my heart why shall I call any body to you, sir? would you not say so 'This way, good sir! it Grove. Not for the world, fair lady; an odd was impossible to know you in such a figure; I kind of a pert, bustling, restless fellow, is gone could sooner have taken you for a smuggler than to do my business; and if I might be permitted his uncle ; no offence, if you will please to walk to say a word or two, in the mean time, to so in that Grove there, I'll find him directly, I'm fair a creature, and I should acknowledge it a sorry for what has happened--but you did not most particular favour: But I intrude, I tear. say you were a gentleman, and it was impos Maria. Indeed you don't, sir-I should be sible to take you for one-no offence, I hope. happy to oblige you.