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such a bawling about his ears, that, at last, he has he's so near common sense, that he passes for a taken the friendly advice of his kinsman, the good wit in the family. Lord Danglecourt, to run his estate two thousand L. Grace. I beg of all things we may have him: pounds more in debt, to put the whole manage- I am in love with nature, let her dress be never ment of what's left into Paul Pillage's hands, that so homely! he may be at leisure himself to retrieve his affairs Man. Then desire him to come hither, James. by being a parliament-man.

[Exit JAMES. Ld Town. A most admirable scheme, indeed ! L. Grace. Pray what may be Mr Moody's Mun. And with this politic prospect, he's now

post? upon his journey to London.

Mun. Oh! his maitre d'hôtel, his butler, his Ld Town. What can it end in ?

bailiff, his hind, his huntsman, and sometimes Mun. Pooh! a journey into the country again. his companion.

Ld Town. Do you think he'll stir, till his mo- Ld Town. It runs in my head, that the moment ney's gone, or, at least, till the session is over?

this knight bas set him down in the house, he will Man. If my intelligence is right, my lord, he get up, to give them the earliest proof of what won't sit long enough to give his vote for a turn- importance he is to the public in his own counpike.

try. La Toun. How so?

Man. Yes, and, when they have heard him, he Man. (! a bitter business! he had scarce a will find, that his utmost importance stands valuvote in the whole town, beside the returning of- ed at- -sometimes being invited to dinner. ficer : Sir John will certainly have it heard at the L. Grace. And her ladyship, I suppose, will make bar of the house, and send him about his business as considerable a figure in her sphere too. again.

Man. That you may depend upon: For (if I Ld Town. Then he has made a fine business don't mistake) she has ten times more of the jade of it indeed.

in her than she yet knows of: And she will so Msan. Which, as far as my little interest will improve in this rich soil in a month, that she will go, shall be done in as few days as possible. visit all the ladies, that will let her into their

1. Gruce. But why would you ruin the poor houses; and run in debt to all the shopkeepers gentleman's fortune, Mr Manly?

that will let her into their books: In short, beMan. No, madam, I would only spoil his pro- fore her important spouse has made five pounds ject to save his fortune.

by his eloquence, ac Westminster, she will have L. Grace. How are you concerned enough to lost five hundred at dice and quadrille, in the pa. do either?

rish of St James's. Mun. Why- I have some obligations to the Ld Town. So that, by that time he is declafamily, madam; I enjoy at this time a pretty es- red unduly elected, a swarm of duns will be reatate, which Sir Francis was heir at law to : But dy for their money, and his worship will be

-by his being a booby, the last will of an ob- ready for a jail. sinate old uncle gave it to me.

Mun. Yes, yes, that I reckon will close the ac

count of this hopeful journey to London-But Enter a Servant.

see, here comes the fore-horse of the team ! Serr. (To MAN.] Sir, here's one of your servants froin your ouse desires to speak with you.

Enler JOHN Moody. Mar. Will you give him leave to come in, my Oh! honest John ! lord ?

J. Mood. Ad's waunds and heart! Measter Ld Town. Sír--the ceremony's of your own Manly! I'm glad I ha' fun ye. Lawd. Lawd! making.

give me a buss! Why that's friendly naw! Flesh!

I thought we should never ha' got hither! Well, Enter MANLY's Servant.

and how d’ye do, measter? --Good lack! I Man. Well, James ! what's the matter now? beg pardon for my bawldness—I did not see

Jumes. Sir, here's John Moody's just come to 'at bis honour was here. town ;

he

says Sir Francis and all the family will Ld Town. Mr Moody, your servant: I am glad be hen to-night, and is in a great hurry to speak to see you in London. I hope all the good fa

mily is well. Man. Where is he?

İ. Mood. Thanks be praised, your honour, they James. At our house, sir: he has been gaping are all in pretty good heart; tho'f we have had and stumping about the streets, in his dirty boots, a power of crosses upo' the road. and asking every one he meets, if they can tell L. Grace. I hope my lady has had no hurt, Mr him where he may have a good lodging for a par- Moody? liament-inan, till he can hire a handsome whole J. Mood. Noa, and please your ladyship, she house, fit for all his family, for the winter. was never in better humour: There's money

Mun. I am afraid, my lord, I must wait upon enough stirring now, Mr Moody.

Mun. What has been the matter, John? Ld Town. Pr’ythee let's have him here: He J. Mvod. Why, we came up in such a hurry, will divert us.

you mun think, that our tackle was not so tight dlun. O, my lord! he's such a cub! not but as it should be.

with you.

Mun. Come, tell us all - Pray how do they | tent, and strong beer so plenty, as made th' owld travel ?

coach crack again ! Mercy upon them! and send J. Mood. Why, i' the awld coach, measter; 'em all well to town, I say. and, 'cause my lady loves to do things handsome, Man. Ay! and well out on't again, John. to be sure, she would have a couple of cart-horses J. Movd. Ods bud! measter, you're a wise mon, clapt to the four old geldings, that neighbours and for that matter, so am I--Whoam’s whoam, might see she went up to London in her coach I say: I'm sure we ha' got but little good e'er and six! And so Giles Joulter, the ploughman, sin' we turned our backs on’t. Nothing but rides postillion!

mischief! Some devil's trick or other played us, Man. Very well! The journey sets out as it awth' dey lung! crack goes one thing; bawnce should do. [Aside ] What, do they bring all the goes another. Woa, says Roger--Then sowse! children with them too?

we are all set fast in a slough. Whaw! cries miss, J. Mood. Noa, noa; only the young Squoire, Scream go the maids ! and bawl, just as tho't and Miss Jenny. The other foive are all out at they were stuck. And so, mercy on us ! this was board, at half-a-crown a head a week, with John the trade from morning to night. But my lady Growse, at Smoke-Dunghill farm.

was in such a murrain haste to be here, that set Man. Good again! a right English academy out she would, tho'f I told her it was Childermas fo younger children!

day. İ. Mood, Anau, sir? (Not understanding him. Man. These ladies, these ladies, John

L. Grace. Poor svuls! What will become of J. Mood. Ah, measter! I ha' seen a little of 'em?

'em; and I find that the best-when she's J. Mood. Nay, nay, for that matter, madam, mended, won't ha' much goodness to pare. they are in very good hands : Joan loves 'um as La Town. Well said, John! Ha, ha! tho'f they were all her own; for she was wet Mun. I hope at least, you and your good wonurse to every mother's babe of ’um--Ay, ay, man agree still. they'll ne'er want for a belly-full there!

J. Mood. Ay, ay! much of a muchness. Brid1. Grace. What simplicity!

get sticks to me: Though, as for her goodnessMan. The lud 'a mercy upon all good folks! Why, she was willing to come to London too What work will these people make!

-But hawld a bit! Noa, noa, says I, there may [Holding up his hands. be mischief enough done without you. La Toun. And when do you expect them here, Man. Why, that was bravely spoken, John, John ?

and like a man. J. Mood. Why, we were in hopes to ha' come J. Mood. Ah, weast heart, were measter but yesterday, an' it had no been that the owld bawf the mon that I am -Ods wookers ! tho'f wheaze-belly borse tired: And then we were he'll speak stawtly too sometimes-- But then so cruelly loaden, that the two fore-wheels came he conno' hawld it-no! he conno' hawid it. crash down at once, in Waggon-Rut-Lane, and Ld Tvæn. L. Grace, and Man. Ha, ha, ha! there we lost four hours 'fore we cou'd set things J. Mood. Ods flesh! But I mun hye me whoam! to rights again.

th' coach will be coming every hour nai--but Man. So they bring all their baggage with the measter charged me to find your worship out; coach then?

for he has hugey business with you ; and will cerJ. Mood. Ay, ay, and good store on't there is tainly wait upon you, by that time he can put on

-Why, my lady's geer alone were as much a clean neckcloth. as filled four portmantel trunks, besides the great Mun. () John! I'll wait upon him. deal box, that heavy Ralph and the monkey sit J. Movd. Why, you wonno’ be so kind, wull ye?

Man. If you'll tell me where you lodge. Ld Town. L. Grace, and Man. Ha, ha, ha! J. Mood. Just i'th' street next to where your

L. Grace. Well, Mr Moody, and pray how worship dwells, the sign of the Golden-ballmany are they within the coach?

It's gold all over; where they sell ribbands and J. Mood. Why, there's my lady and his wor- flappits, and other sort of geer for gentlewomen, ship, and the young Squoire, and Miss Jenny, Man. A milliner's ? and the fat lap-dog, and my lady's maid, Mrs J. Mood. Ay, ay, one Mrs Motherly: Waunds! Handy, and Doll Tripe, the cook, that's all-- she has a couple of clever girls there stitching i' Only Doll puked a little with riding backward, so th' fore-room. they hoisted her into the coach-box, and then Mun. Yes, yes, she's a woman of good busiher stomach was easy.

ness, no doubt on't-Who recommended that L. Gruce. Ol! I see 'em! I see 'em go by house to you, John? me! Ah, ha!

(Larghing. J. Nool. The greatest good fortune in the J. Mood. Then you mun think, measter, there world, sure! For, as I was gaping about streets, was some stowage for the belly as well as the who should look out of the window there, but back too; children are apt to be famisht upo' the the fine gentleman that was always riding by our road; so we had such cargoes of plumb-cake, coach side, at York races-- -Count--Basset ; and baskets of tongues, anu biscuits, and cheese, ay,

that's he. and cold boil'd beef- - And then, in case of sick- Man. Basset? Oh, I remember! I know hiva ness, bottles of cherry brandy, plague water, sack, I by sight.

upon behind.

to see to

J. Mood. Well! to be sure, as civil a gentleman Man. I shall be too hard for you, madam.

L. Grace. No matter! I shall have as much Mun. As any sharper in town. [Aside. advantage of my lord as you have of me.

J. Mood. At York, he used to breakfast with Ld Town. Say you so, madam? Have at you, my lady every morning.

then ! Here! Get the ombre-table and cards. Ninn. Yes yes; and I suppose her ladyship

(Exit Lord Townty. will return his compliment here in town. (Aside. L. Grace. Come, Mr Manly-I know you J. Mood. Well, measter--

don't forgive me now? Lu Town. My service to Sir Francis and my Man. don't know whether I ought to forgive lady, John.

your thinking so, madam. Where do you ima1. Gruce. And mine. pray, Mr Moody. gine I could pass my time so agreeably?

J. Mood. Ay, your honours, they'll be proud L. Grare. I'm sorry my lord is not here to on't, I dare say:

take his share of the compliment——But he'll Mun. I'll bring my compliments myself: So, wonder what's become of us. honest John

Man. I'll follow in a moment, madamJ. Mood. Dear measter Manly, the goodness

(Exit Lady GRACE of goodness bless and preserve you!

It must be so—-She sees I love her—yet, (Exit John Moody. with what unoffending decency she avoids an exLd Town. What a natural creature 'tis ! planation ! How amiable is every hour of her con

L. Grace. Well! I cann't but think John, in duct ! What a vile opinion have I had of the a wet afternoon in the country, must be very whole sex for these ten years past, which this good company

sensible creature has recovered in less than one ! Ld Town. O! the Tramontane! If this were Such a companion, sure, might compensate all known at half the quadrille-tables in town, they the irksome disappointments that pride, folly, would lay down their cards to laugh at you.

and falsehood ever gave me ! L. Grace. And the minute they took them up again, they would do the same at the losers-- Could women regulate, like her, their lives, But, to let you see that I think good company What halcyon days were in the gift of wives! may sometimes want cards to keep them toge- Vain rovers, then, might envy what they hate, ther, what think you if we three sat soberly And only fools would mock the married state. down, to kill an hour at ombre ?

Exit.

1

ACT II.

C. Bas. Look you, in one word, my cards lie SCENE I.-MIrs MOTHERLY's Blouse. thus-When I was down this summer at York, Enter Count BASSET and Mrs MOTHERLY.

I happened to lodge in the same house with this

knight's lady that's now coming to lodge with C. Bas. I tell you there is not such a family in youEngland for you! Do you think I would have Moth. Did you so, sir? gone out of your lodgings for any body that was C. Bas. And sometimes had the honour to not sure to make you easy for the winter ?

breakfast, and pass an idle hour with her. Moth. Nay, I see nothing against it, sir, but Moth. Very good; and here I suppose you the gentleman's being a parliament-man; and, would have the impudence to sup, and be busy when people may, as it were," think one imperti- with her? nent, or be out of humour, you know, when a C. Bus. Pshaw! pr’ythee hear me! body comes to ask for one's own

Moth. Is this your game? I would not give Č. Bas. Pshaw! Pr’ythee never trouble thy sixpence for it! What, you have a passion for her head-lis pay is as good as the bank !

Why,

pin-money — No, no, country ladies are not so he has above two thousand a year!

Hush of it! Moth. Alas-a-day! that's nothing: Your peo- C. Bas. Nay, if you won't have patience ple of ten thousand a year have ten thousand Moth. One had need to have a good deal, ! things to do with it.

am sure, to hear you talk at this rate! Is this C. Bus. Nay, if you are afraid of being out of your way of making my poor niece Myrtilla easy? your money, what do you think of going a lit- C. Bas. Death! I shall do it still, if the wonian ile with me, Mrs Motherly?

will but let me speak ! Moth. As how?

Moth. Had not you a letter from her this mornC. Bus. Why, I have a game in my hand, in ing? which, if you'll croup me, that is, help me to play C. Bas. I have it here in my pocket this it, you shall go five hundred to nothing.

(Shews it, and puts it up again. Moth. Say you so ?-Why then, I go, sir- Moth. Ay, but I don't find you have made any and now pray let's see your game.

is it.

answer to it.

me?

upon it.

C. Bas. How the devil can I, if you won't hear and the five hundred shall be staked in a third

band. Moth. What! hear you talk of another wo- Moth. That's honest

-But here comes iny man?

niece! shall we let her into the secret? C. Bus. O lud! O lud! I tell you, I'll make C. Bus. Time enough! may be I may touch her fortune-'Ounds! I'll marry her.

Moth. A likely matter ! If you would not do it when she was a maid, your stomach is not so

Enter MYRTILLA. sharp set now, I presume.

Moth. So, niece, are all the rooms done out C. Bas. Hey-day! why your head begins to and the beds sheeted ? turn, my dear! The devil! you did not think I

Myr. Yes, madam; but Mr Moody tells us the proposed to marry her myself?

lady always burns wax in her own chamber, and Moth. If you don't, who the devil do you

think

we have none in the house. will marry her?

Moth. Odso! then I must beg your pardon, C. Bas. Why, a fool

count: this is a busy time, you know. Moth. Humph ! there may be sense in that,

(Erit Mrs MOTHERLY. C. Bus. Very good_One for t'other then; C. Bas. Myrtilla ! how dost thou do, child? if I can help her to a husband, why should not

Asyr. As well as a losing gamester can. you come into my scheme of helping me to a

C. Bas. Why, what have you lost ? wife?

Myr. What I shall never recover; and what's Moth. Your pardon, sir ! ay! ay! in an honour

worse, you that have won it, don't seem to be able affair, you know, you may command me

much the better for't. But pray, where is this blessed wife and husband

C. Bus. Why, child, dost thou ever see any to be had ?

body overjoyed for winning a deep stake six C. Bas. Now have a little patience- -You months after 'tis over ? must know then, this country knight and his la- Myr. Would I had never played for it! dy bring up in the coach with them their eldest

C. Bas. Psha! Hang these melancholy thoughts! son and a daughter, to teach them to-wash

we may be friends still. their faces and turn their toes out.

Myr. Dull ones. Moth, Good!

C. Bas. Useful ones perhaps

-suppose I C. Bus. The son is an unlicked whelp, about should help thee to a good husband? sixteen, just taken from school, and begins to

Myr. I suppose you'll think any one good hanker after every wench in the family; the enough that will take me off o' your hands. daughter, much of the same age, a pert,

forward

C. Bas. What do you think of the young counhussy, who, having eight thousand pound left her try 'squire, the heir of the family that's coming

an old doting grandmother, seems to have a to lodge here: devilish mind to be doing in her way too.

Myr. How should I know what to think of Moth. And your design is—to put her into bu. him ? siness for life?

C. Bas. Nay, I only give you the hint, child; C. Bus. Look you; in short, Mrs Motherly, it may be worth your while, at least, to look we gentlemen, whose occasional chariots roll on

about you-Hark! what bustle's that without! ly upon the four aces, are liable, sometimes, you know, to have a wheel out of order; which, I

Enter Mrs MOTHERLY in haste, confess, is so much my case at present, that my dapple greys are reduced to a pair of ambling Moth. Sir! sir ! the gentleman's coach is at chairmen : Now, if, with your assistance, I can the door! they are all come ! whip up this young jade into a hackney-coach, I C. Bas. What, already ? may chance, in a day or two after, to carry her Moth. They are just getting out!--won't in my own chariot, en fumille, to an opera. Now, you step and lead in my lady? Do you be in the what do you say to me?

way, niece! I must run and receive them. Moth. Why, I shall not sleep-for thinking

(E.cit Mrs MOTHERLY. of it. But how will you prevent the family's

C. Bas. And think of what I told you. smoking your design?

[Erit Count. C. Bas. By renewing my addresses to the mo- Myr. Ay! ay! you have left me enough to ther.

think of as long as I live-A faithless fellow ! I Moth. And how will the daughter like that, am sure I have been true to him; and for that

only reason, he wants to be rid of me : But C. Bas. Very well-whilst it covers her own while women are weak, men will b: rogues ! affair.

And, for a bane to both their joys and ours, Moth. That's true

-it must do--but, as when our vanity indulges them in such innocent you say, one for t'other, sir, I stick to that favours as make them adore us, we can never be If

don't do my niece's business with the son, well till we grant them the very one that puts l'll blow you with the daughter, depend upon't. an end to their devotion-But here comes my

C. Bus. It's a bet-pay as we go, I tell you, aunt and the company.

by

think you?

you

Mrs MOTHERLY relurns, shering in Lady

Jen. I hope you will see me in a better 10WRONGHEAD, led by Count BASSET.

morrow, sir.

(Lady WRONG. whispers Mrs Moth. pointMoth. If your ladyship pleases to walk into ing to MYRTILLA. this parlour, madam, only for the present, till Moth. Only a niece of mine, madam, that lives your servants have got all your things in. with me: she will be proud to give your lady.

L. Wrong. Well! dear sir, this is so infinitely ship any assistance in her power. obliging Si protest it gives ine pain though, to L. I'rong. A pretty sort of a young womanturn you out of your lodging thus !

Jenny, you two must be acquainted. C. Bas. No trouble in the least, madam; we Jen. O, mamma! I am never strange, in a single fellows are soon moved; besides, Mrs strange place!

(Salutes MYRTILLA. Motherly's my old acquaintance, and I could not Myr. You do me a great deal of honour, mabe her hindrance.

dam-Madanı, your ladyship’s welcome to LonMoth. The count is so well-bred, madam, I don. dare say he would do a great deal more to ac- Jen. Mamma! I like her prodigiously! she cominodate your ladyslip.

called me my ladyship. L. Wrong. O, dear madam! -A good well- Sq. Rich. Pray, mother, mayn't I be acquainted bred sort of a woman.

Lulpart to the Count. with her too? C. Bas. 0, madam, she is very much among L. Wrong. You! you clown! stay till you people of quality; she is seldorn without them in learn a little more breedng first. her house.

Sir Fruni. Ods heart ! my Lady Wronghead ! L. Ilrong. Are there a good many people of why do you back the lad ? how should he ever quality in this street, Mrs Motherly?

learn breeding, if he does not put himself for. Moth. Now your ladyship is here, madam, I ward ? don't believe there is a house without them. Sq. Rich. Why ay, feyther, does moather

L. Wrong. I am mighty glad of that : for think ’at I'd be uncivil to her ? really I think people of quality should always live Myr. Master has so much good-humour, maamong one another,

dam, he would soon gain upon any body. C. Bas. 'Tis what one would choose indeed,

(He kisses Myr. madam.

Sq. Rich. Lo' you there, moather: and you L. Wrong. Bless me ! but where are the chil would be quiet, she and I should do well enough. dren all this while?

L. Wrong. Why, how now, sirrah ! Boys must Moth. Sir Francis, madam, I believe is taking not be so familiar. care of them.

Sq. Rich. Why, 'an I know nobody, haw the Sir Fran. (Irithin.] John Moody! stay you murrain mun I pass my time here, in a strange by the coach, and see all our things out-Come, place? Naw you and I, and sister, forsooth, children.

sometimes, in an afternoon, may play at one and Moth. Here they are, madam.

thirty bone-ace purely.

Jen. Speak for yourself, sir ! D'ye think I Enter Sir FRANCIS, Squire RICHARD, and Miss play at such clownish games? JENNY.

Sq. Rich. Why and you woant, yo' ma' let Sir Fran. Well, count! I mun say it, this it alone; then she and I, mayhap, will bave a was koynd, indeed!

bawt at all-fours, without you. C. Bus. Sir Francis! give me leave to bid you Sir Fran. Noa! noa! Dick, that won't do welcome to London.

neither; you mun learn to make one at ombre Sir Frun. Psha! how dost do, mon-Waunds, here, child. I'm glad to see thee! A good sort of a house Myr. If master pleases, I'll shew it him. this.

Sg. Rich. What the Humber! Hoy-day! why C. Bas. Is not that Master Richard ?

does our river run to this tawn, feyther? Sir Fran. Ey! ey! that's young hopeful- Sir Frun. Pooh! you silly tony! Ombre is a why dost not baw, Dick ?

geam at cards, that the better sort of people play Sq. Rich. So I do, feyther.

three together at. C. Bas. Sir, I'm glad to see you- I protest

Sq. Rich. Nay the moare the merrier, I sas; Mrs Jane is grown so, I should not have known but sister is always so cross-grainedher.

Jen. Lord ! this boy is enough to deaf peoSir Fran. Come forward, Jenny.

ple-and one has really been stuffed up in a coach Jen. Sure, papa, do you think I don't know so long, that-Pray, madam, could not I get a how to behave myself?

little powder for my hair? C Bus. If I have permission to approach her, Mlyr. If you please to come along with me, Sir Francis

madam.

(Exeunt MyR. and JENNY. Jen. Lord, sir, I'm in such a frightful pickle- Sq. Rich. What, has sister ta’en her away naw!

(Salute. mess, I'll go and have a little game with 'em. C. Bas. Every dress that's proper must become you, madam,—you have been a long journey. L. Wrong, Well, count, I hope you won't se

(Exit after them.

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