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a collateral branch by the mother's side, the Apprices of Lantrindon; and we have ever since quartered in an escutcheon of pretence the three goats tails rampant, divided by a chevron, field argent, with a leek pendant in the dexter point, to distinguish the second house.

Sir Greg. Wonderful! wonderful! nearly, nearly, related ! good now, good now! if Dame Winifred were here she'd make them all out with a wet finger ; but they are above me. Prithee, Tim, good now! see after the horses;-—and, d'ye hear! try if you can get any news-papers.

Tim. Yes, father. But, cousin What-d'ye-callum, not a word about Mally Pengrouse ! Hart. Mum!

[Exit Timothy. Sir Greg. Good now, that boy will make some mistake about the horses now! I'll go myself. Good now, no farther cousin ! if you please, no ceremony! · A hundred and fifty a week! the Fool! ha, ha, ha! wonderful ! an odd dog.

[Exit Sir Gregory. Jenk. So, Jack, here's a fresh spoke in your wheel.

Hart. This is a cursed cross incident!

Jenk. Well, but something must be done to frustrate the scheme of your new cousin. Can you think of nothing ?

Hart. I have been hammering :- pray, are the two knights intimate ? are they well acquainted with each other's person?

Jenk. Faith, I can't tell ; but we may soon know. B3

Hart.

Hart. Could you recommend me a good spirited girl, who has humour and compliance to follow a few directions, and understanding enough to barter a little inclination for 3000l. a year and a fool?

Jenk. In part I guess your design: the man's daughter of the house is a good lively lass, has a fortune to make, and no reputation to lose. I'll call her.- Jenny! - But the enemy is at hand; — I'll withdraw and prepare Jenny. When the worshipful family are retired I'll introduce the wench.

[Erit Jenkins.

Enter Sir Gregory and Timothy.

Sir Greg. Pray now, cousin, are you in friendship with Sir, Penurious Trifle?

Hart. I have the honour, sir, of that gentleman's acquaintance.

Sir Greg. May be so, may be so ! but, lack-.day, cousin, is he such a miser as folks say ? Good now, they tell me we shall hardly have necessaries for ourselves and horses at Gripe-Hall: but, as you are a relation, you should, good now, know the affairs of the family. Here is Sir Penurious's letter; here, cousin.

Hart. “Your overture I receive with pleasure, and should be glad to meet you in Shropshire.”-I fancy, from a thorough knowledge of Sir Penurious's disposition, and by what I can collect froin the contents of that letter, he would be much

better

better pleased to meet you here than at his own house.

Sir Greg. Lack-a-day! may be so! a strange man! wonderful! But, good now, cousin, what must we do?

Hart. I will this morning pay Sir Penurious a visit; and, if you will honour me with your commands, I'll

Sir Greg. Wonderful! to-day! good now, that's lucky! cousin, you are very kind : good now! I'll send a letter, Tim, by cousin Hartop.

Hart. A letter from so old an acquaintance, and upon so happy an occasion, will secure me a favourable reception.

Sir Greg. Good lack, good lack! an old acquaintance indeed, cousin Hartop! we were at Herefordshire 'size together-let's see, wonderful! how long ago? 'twas while I was courting Dame Winny; the year before I married; good now, how long? let's see, —that year the hackney-stable was built, and Peter Ugly, the blind pad, fell into a saw-pit.

Tim. Mother says, father and she was married, the 1st of April, in the year 10; and I knows ’tis there about, for I am two-and-thirty; and brother Jeremy, and Roger, and Gregory, and sister Nel. ly, were born'a before I.

Sir Greg. Good now, good now! how time wears away! wonderful ! thirty-eight years ago, Tim; I could not have thought it. But come in, let's set about the letter. But pray, cousin, what diversions, good now! are going forward in Lon. don?

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Hart,

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Hart. Oh, sir, we are in no distress for amuse, ment; we have plays, balls, puppet-shows, mas. querades, bull-haitings, boxings, burlettas, routs, drums, and a thousand others. But I am in haste for your epistle, Sir Gregory, Sir Greg. Cousin your servant.

[Erit Sir Greg. and Tim, Hart. I am your most obedient. — Thus far our scheme succeeds; and, if Jenkins's girl can assume the aukward pertness of the daughter with as much success as I can imitate the spirited folly of Sir Penurious, the father, I don't despair of a happy catastrophe.

Enter Jenny. Jenny. Sir, Mr. Jenkins

Hart. Oh, child, your instructions shall be ad ministered within.

Jenny. Mr. Jenkins has opened your design, and I am ready and able to execute my part.

Hart. My dear, I have not the least doubt of either

your inclination or ability.-- But, pox take this old fellow! what in the devil's name can bring him back? Scour, Jenny.

Erit Jenny.

Enter Sir Gregory. Sir Grcg. Cousin, I beg pardon, but I have a fayour to beg;---good now, could not you make interest at some coffee house in London to buy, for a

small

small matter, the old books of news papers, and send them into the country to me? They would pass away the time rarely in a rainy day!

Hart. Sir, I'll send you a cart-load,

Sir Greg. Good now, good now! ten thousand thanks ! you are a cousin indeed! But pray, cousin, let us, gocd now! see some of the works of that same Fool.

Hart. I'll send them you all; but a

Sir Greg. What all ? lack-a-day, that's kind, çousin ? The Terra Incognita,—both the Needles, -a great deal of that! But what bishop is to be pope?

Hart. Zounds, sir, I am in haste for your letter; when I return ask as many questions

Sir Greg. Good now, good now ! that's true! I'll in, and about it. - But, cousin, the pope is not to have Gibraltar?

Hart. No, no; damn it, no! as none but the Fool could say it, so none but ideots would believe him! Pray, Sir Gregory,

Sir Greg. Well, well, cousin! Lack-a-day, you are so

Hart. Damn your praying ! if you don't finish your letter immediately you may carry it your. self!

Sir Greg. Well, well, cousin! Lack-a-day, you are in such a

Good now, I go, I go! Hart. But, If the truth should be discovered, I shall be inevitably disappointed.

Sir Greg. But, cousin, are Scilly-rocks

Hart. I wish they were in your guts with all my heart! I must quit the field, I find.

(E.rut. B4

But, pray

Sir Greg

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