the gardens; and then, as a mistress, which, as the world goes, is a much better station than that of a wife, not the proudest of them allMrs Mech. Mistress! No, no, we have not managed our matters so badly. Hark'e, Mr Commissary? 2. Fun. Well, what do you want? Mrs Mech. Do you propose to consummate your nuptials? 2. Fun. That's a pretty question, indeed! Mrs Mech. You have no objection then to paying the penalty, the contract here that Mr Harpy has drawn? 2. Fun. The contract! hey, brother Isaac ! I. Fun. Let me see it. Mrs Mech. Soft you there, my maker of candles; it is as well where it is: but you need not SCENE I-A street. Enter MARTIN. Mart. I AM sick as a dog of being a valet! running after other people's business, and neglecting my own- -this low life is the devil!I've had a taste of 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 at once. A fellow of my wit and spirit should have broke twice, and set up again by this time. Slip. The same, i'faith! Slip. My friend, happily met! Mar. My dear, I embrace you !-Not seeing you among the beau-monde, I was afraid 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, ha!why, what little mischief had'st thou been at? 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-(I 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 reflections. Mar. No doubt, it spoiled you for a newsmonger: no more intelligence from foreign countries, ha! Slip. Well but, Martin! what's thy history since I saw thee? Mar. Um! a novel only, sir: why, I am a shamed to say it; I am but an honorary rascal, as well as yourself.----I did try my luck, indeed, at Epsom, 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. 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 Harlowepiping hot from his travels. 'Tis a 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 at 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. Miss Stockwell to your master? Slip. 'Tis not above six weeks ago, that my master's father, sir Harry Harlowe, was here upon a visit to his old friend, and then the matter was settled between them—quite a 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 sceing 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. Ay, he's dying for the-twenty thousand-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—hark 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, vou 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. That! I have a trick worth two on't; I know Miss Nancy is a girl of taste, and I have a prettier fellow in my eye for her. Slip. Ay, who's he? I Mar. Myself, you puppy ! [Slaps him on the back. Mar. I'm in love with her to Slip. To the value of twenty thousand pounds? approve your flame. Mar. I will take the name and shape of your master. Slip. Very well! 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 well known? Mar. Hold your fool's tongue-this is my first 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 inatch? 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 irresolute 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 hark'e! what shall we do with the old gentlemen's letter that I'm to deliver? This will knock us all up! Enter MISS NANCY and JENNY. Nan. You know, Jenny, that Belford has got into my heart, and if I consent to marry this man, '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 reconcile your love and my conscience. Nan. How, how, my dear girl? Jen. Suppose 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 sigh, and a tear, and a handkerchief, she makes her husband 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. Jen. Why, that's true enough; the last 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. [Exit NANCY. 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 ! Slip. My master's will fit you to a hair. Mar. But stay, stay; I must see my master first. If he should appear and surprize us, we're Mrs Stock. Hussy, hussy! you're a flatterer! in a fine pickle. I must make him keep house [Taps her on the shoulder. for a few days--I'll think of a lie as I go-Egad Jen. Ah!—Madam, is it you? I vow you made I have it already-I'll to him, and meet you af- me start. Miss Nancy and I had just been talkterwards at the tavern; there take a glass, casting of you, and we agreed you were one of the this coarse skin, whip on the gentleman, and best of women, the most reasonable friend, the -shame the first men of fashion in the kingdom. tenderest mother, and the-the-the [Exit. Mrs Stock. Nay, that's too much. I have my 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 inclinations ? Mrs Stock. I force my child's inclinations! 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 daughter. Her heart suffers now, what yours did-before 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 husband-I 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. 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, done any thing to Mrs Stock. I don't accuse him, my dear. Stock. Or has his son refused to comply? Mrs Stock. Not in the least, that I know of, Jen. Never flinch, madam. Mrs Stock. Never fear, Jenny. Nan. But I have never seen him, papa. Mrs Stock. No, Mr Stockwell, she has never seen him } [Aside. Stock. So much the better, Mrs Stockwell; he'll be a greater novelty, and please her the better, and the longer for it. ny. Mrs Stock. There is some reason in that, Jen 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! [Aside. |