ORATORS.

ACT I.

Enter Will Tirehack, and Harry Scamper, booted, with Whips in their Hands, into a Side-Box.

Scamper.

PSHAW! zounds; prithee, Will, let us go; what signifies our staying here?

Tirehack. Nay, but tarry a little; besides, you know we promised to give Poll Bayliss and Bett Skinner the meeting.

Scamper. No matter, we shall be sure to find them at three at the Shakspeare.

Tirehack. But as we are here, Harry, let us know a little what it's about?

Scamper. About! Why lectures, you fool! Have not you read the bills? and we have plenty of them at Oxford you know!

Tirehack. Well, but for all that, there may be fun.

Scamper. Why then, stay and enjoy it yourself; and I'll step to the Bull and Gate, and call upon Jerry Lack-Latin, and my horse. We shall see you at three. [Rising.

Tirehack. Nay, but prithee, stay.

Scamper. Rot me if I do.

Going out of the Box.

Tirehack. Halloo, Harry! Harry—
Scamper. Well, what's the matter now?

[Returning.

Tirehack. Here's Poll Bayliss come into the gal

lery.

Scamper. No.

Tirehack. She is, by

Scamper. [looking.] Yes, faith! it is she, sure enough. How goes it, Poll?

Tirehack. Well, now, we shall have you, I hope? Scamper. Ay, if I thought we should get any fun. Tirehack. I'll make an enquiry. Halloo! snuffers, snuffers!

Enter Candle-snuffer.

Your pleasure, sir?

Tirehack. What is all this business about here? Snuffer. Can't say, sir.

Scamper. Well but you could if you would, let us into the secret.

Snuffer. Not I, upon my honour!

Tirehack. Your honour, you son of a whore ! D'ye hear, bid your master come hither, we want to ask him a question.

Snuffer. I will

[Exit. Tirehack. Scamper, will you ask him, or shall I? Scamper. Let me alone to him-

Enter FOOTE.

Tirehack. O! here he is

Foote. Your commands with me, gentlemen? Scamper. Why, you must know Will and I here are upon a scheme from Oxford; and because cash begins to run low-How much have you, Will?

Tirehack. Three and twenty shillings, besides the crown I paid at the door.

Scamper. And I eighteen; now, as this will last us but to-night, we are willing to husband our time; let us see, Will, how are we engaged?

Tirehack. Why at three, with Bett and Poll, there, at the Shakspeare; after that to the Coronation; for you know we have seen it but nine times

Scamper. And then back to the Shakspeare again; where we sup, and take horse at the door. Tirehack. So there's no time to be lost, you see; we desire, therefore, to know what sort of a thing this affair here of yours is? What, is it damn'd funny and comical?

Foote. Have you not seen the Bills?

Scamper. What, about the lectures? ay, but that's all slang, I suppose; no, no. No tricks upon travellers; no, we know better-What, are there any more of you; or do you do it all yourself?

Foote. If I was in want of comedians, you gentlemen, are kind enough to lend me a lift; but upon my word, my intentions, as the bill will inform you,

are serious

Tirehack. Are they? then I'll have my money again. What, do you think we come to London to learn any thing?-Come, Will. [Going. Foote. Hold, Gentlemen, I would detain you if possible. What is it you expect?

Scamper. To be jolly, and laugh, to be sure-
Foote. At what?

Tirehack. At what-damme, I don't knowat you, and your frolicks and fancies-

Foote. If that is all you desire, why, perhaps we shan't disappoint you-

Scamper. Shan't you?-why, that is an honest fellow-come, begin

Foote. But you'll be so kind as not to interrupt me? Scamper. Never fear

Foote. Ladies and gentlemen

[Suds from the opposite box calls to Foote, and stops him short.

Suds. Stop a minute; may I be permitted to speak?

Foote. Doubtless, Sir

Suds. Why the affair is this: My wife Alicefor you must know my name is Ephraim Suds, I am a soap-boiler in the city,-took it into her head, and

nothing would serve her turn, but that I must be a common-council man this year; for, says Alice, says she, It is the onliet way to rise in the world.

Foote. A just observation-you succeeded?

Suds. Oh! there was no danger of that—yes, yes, I got it all hollow; but now to come to the marrow of the business. Well, Alice, says I, now I am chosen, what's next to be done?" Why now, says Alice, says she, thee must learn to make speeches; why dost not see what purferment neighbour Grogram has got; why man, 'tis all brought about by his speechifying. I tell thee what, Ephraim, if thee can'st but once learn to lay down the law, there's no knowing to what thee may'st rise"

Foote. Your lady had reason.

Suds. Why I thought so too; and, as good luck would have it, who should come into the city, in the very nick of time but master professor along with his lectures-Adod, away, in a hurry, Alice and I danced to Pewterers-Hall.

Foote. You improved, I hope?

Suds. O Lud! it is unknown what knowledge we got; we can read-Oh! we never stop to spell a word now-and then he told us such things about verbs, and nouns, and adverbs, that never entered our heads before, and emphasis, and accent; heaven bless us, I did not think there had been such things in the world.

Foote. And have you speechified yet?

Suds. Soft? soft and fair; we must walk before we can run-I think I have laid a pretty foundation. The Mansion-house was not built in a day, Master Foote. But to go on with my tale, my dame one day looking over the papers, came running to me; Now, Ephraim, says she, thy business is done; rare news, lad; here is a man at the other end of the town, that will make thee a speecher at once, and out she pull'd your proposals. Ah, Alice, says I, thee be'st but a fool, why I know that man, he is all

aupon his fun; he lecture-why 'tis all but a bamWell, 'tis but seeing, says she, so, wolens nolens, she would have me come hither; now if so be you be serious, I shall think my money wisely bestowed; but if it be only your comical works, I can tell you,

you

shall see me no more.

Foote. Sir, I should be extremely sorry to lose you; if I knew but what would content you?

Suds. Why, I want to be made an orator on ; and to speak speeches, as I tell you, at our meetings, about politicks, and peace, and addresses, and the new bridge, and all them kind of things.

Foote. Why, with your happy talents I should think much might be done.

Suds. I am proud to hear you say so. Indeed I am. I did speechify once at a vestry concerning new lettering the church buckets, and came off cutely enough; and, to say the truth, that was the thing that provoked me to go to Pewterers-Hall.

[Sits down again.

Foote. Well, sir, I flatter myself, that in proportion to the difference of abilities in your two instructors, you will here make a tolerable progress. But now, sir, with your favour, we will proceed to explain the nature of our design, and I hope in the process, you, gentlemen, will find entertainment, and you, sir, information.

Mr. FOOTE then proceeded in his lecture.

My plan, gentlemen, is to be considered as a superstructure on that admirable foundation laid by the modern professor of English, both our labours tending to the same general end; the perfectioning of our countrymen in a most essential article, the right use of their native language.

But what he has happily begun, I have the vanity o think I have as happily finished; he has, it is true, troduced you into the body of the church, but I nduct you into the choir of the cathedral: Or, to