Sir Jac. Sir, sirrah! and why not Sir Jacob, you rascal? Is that all your manners? Has his Majesty dubb'd me a Knight for you to make me a Mister? Are the candidates near upon coming? Rog. Nic Goose the taylor from Putney, they say, will be here in a crack, Sir Jacob. Sir Jac. Has Margery fetch'd in the linen? Sir Jac. Are the pigs and the poultry lock'd up in the barn? Rog. Safe, Sir Jacob. Sir Jac. And the plate and spoons in the pantry ? Rog. Yes, Sir Jacob. Sir Jac. Then give me the key: the mob will soon be upon us; and all is fish that comes to their Has Ralph laid the cloth in the hall? net. Rog. Yes Sir Jacob. Sir Jac. Then let him bring out the turkey and chine, and be sure there is plenty of mustard; and, d'ye hear, Roger, do you stand yourself at the gate, and be careful who you let in. Rog. I will, Sir Jacob. [Exit Rog. Sir Jac. So, now I believe things are pretty secure; but I can't think what makes my daughters so late ere they— [Knocking at the Gate. Who is that, Roger? Rog. (without.) Master Lint the pottercarrier, Sir Jacob. Sir Jac. Let him in. What the deuse can he want? Enter LINT. Sir Jac. Well, Master Lint, your will? Lint. Why, I come, Sir Jacob, partly to inquire after your health and partly, as I may say, to settle the business of the day. Sir Jac. What business? Lint. Your worship knoweth, this being the day of election, the rabble may be riotous; in which case, maims, bruises, contusions, dislocations, fractures simple and compound, may likely ensue: now your worship need not be told, that I am not only a pharmacopolist, or vender of drugs, but likewise chirurgeon, or healer of wounds. Sir Jac. True, Master Lint, and equally skilful in boh. Lint. It is your worship's pleasure to say so, Sir Jacob. Is it your worship's will that I lend a ministring hand to the maim'd? Sir Jac. By all means. Lint. And to whom must I bring in my bill? Sir Jac. Doubtless the vestry. Lint. Your worship knows, that, kill or cure, I have contracted to physic the parish-poor by the great: but this must be a separate charge. Sir Jac. No, no; all under one: come, Master Lint, don't be unreasonable. Lint. Indeed, Sir Jacob, I can hardly afford it. What with the dearness of drugs, and the number of patients the peace has procured me, I can't get salt to my porridge. Sir Jac. Bad this year, better the next.-We must take things rough and smooth as they run. Lint. Indeed I have a very hard bargain. Sir Jac. No such matter; we are, neighbour Lint, a little better instructed. Formerly, indeed, a fit of illness was very expensive; but now physic is cheaper than food. Lint. Marry, heaven forbid! Sir Jac. No, no; your essences, elixirs, emetics, sweats, drops, and your pastes, and your pills, have silenc'd your pestles and mortars. Why, a fever that would formerly have cost you a fortune, you may now cure for twelve penn'orth of powder. Lint. Or kill, Sir Jacob. Sir Jac. And then as to your scurvies, and gouts, rheumatisms, consumptions, coughs and catarrhs, tar-water and turpentine will make you as sound as a roach. Lint. Nostrums. Sir Jac. Specifics, specifics, Master Lint. Lint. I am very sorry to find a man of your worship's- Sir Jacob, a promoter of puffs; an encourager of quacks, Sir Jacob. Sir Jac. Regulars, Lint, regulars; look at their names-Roger, bring me the news-not a soul of them but is either P. L. or M. D. Lint. Plaguy liars; murderous dogs. ROGER brings the News. Sir Jac. Liars! Here, look at the list of their cures. The oath of Margery Squab, of RatcliftHighway, spinster. Lint. Perjuries. Sir Jac. And see here, the churchwardens have signed it. Lint. Fictitious, Sir Jacob. Sir Jac. Sworn, before the worshipful Mr. Justice Drowsy, this thirteenth day of— Lint. Forgery. Sir Jac. Why, hark'ye, sirrah, do you think Mr. Justice Drowsy would set his hand to a forgery? Lint. I know, Sir Jacob, that woman; she has been cured of fifty diseases in a fortnight, and every one of 'em mortal. Sir Jac. You impudent Lint. Of a dropsy, by West Sir Jac. Audacious Lint. A cancer by Cleland Sir Jac. Arrogant Lint. A palsy, by Walker Sir Jac. Impertinent Lint. Gout and sciatic, by Rock Sir Jac. Insolent Lint. Consumption, by Stevens's drops→→ Sir Jac. Paltry— Lint. And squinting by the Chevalier Taylor.Sir Jac. Pill-gilding puppy! Lint. And as to the justice, so the affidavit brings him a shilling Sir Jac. Why, hark'ye, rascal, how dare you abuse the commission? You blood-letting, tooth drawing, corn-cutting, worm-killing, blistering, glistering Lint. Bless me, Sir Jacob, I did not think toSir Jac. What, sirrah, do you insult me in my office? Here, Roger, out with him-Turn him out. Lint. Sir as I hope to be— You scoundrel, if my Sir Jac. Away with him. clerk was within, I'd send you this instant to Bridewell. Things are come to a pretty pass indeed, if B |