deceased, and all his fortune devifed to his relic, my mother.

Mrs. Mech. What, the whole!

Y. Lov. Every fhilling. That is, for her life. Mrs. Mech. And to what fum may it amount ? r. Lov. Why, my mother is eternally telling me, that after her, I fhall inherit fifty or fixty thousand at leaft.

Mrs. Mech. Upon my word, a capital fum.

Y. Lov. But of what use, my dear Mrs. Mech lin, fince the refuses to advance me a guinea upon the credit of it, and while the grafs growsYou know the proverb.

Mr. Mech. What, I fuppofe you want fomething for prefent fubfiftence?

Y. Lov. Juft my fituation

Mrs. Mech. Have you thought of nothing for yourself?

Y. Lov. I am refolved to be guided by you. Mrs. Mech. What do you think of a wife? r. Lov. A wife!

Mrs. Mech. Come, come, don't defpife my advice; when a young man's finances are low, a wife is a much better refource than a ufurer; and there are in this town a number of kind-hearted widows that take a pleasure in repairing the injuries done by fortune to handfome young fellows.

Har. Mrs. Mechlin has reafon.

Y. Lov. But, dear ma'am, what can I do with a wife.

Mrs. Mech. Do! why like other young fellows who marry ladies a little ftricken in years; make her your banker and fteward. If you fay but the word, before night I'll give you a widow with two thousand a year in her pocket.

Y. Lov.

Y. Lov. Two thousand a year! a pretty employment, if the refidence could but be dispensed with.

Mrs. Mech. What do you mean by residence? Do you think a gentleman, like a pitiful trader, is to be eternally tacked to his wife's petticoat? when fhe is in town, be you in the country; as the fhifts do you fhift. Why, you need not be with her above thirty days in the year; and let me tell you, you won't find a more eafy condition; twelve months fubfiftence for one month's labour !

r. Lov. Two thousand a year, you are sure? Mrs: Mech. The leaft penny.

Y. Lov. Well madam, you fhall dispose of me juft as you please.

Mrs. Mech. Very well, if you will call in half an hour at fartheft, I believe we shall finifh the bufinefs.

Y. Lov. In half an hour?

Mrs. Mech. Precisely. Oh, difpatch is the very life and foul of my trade. Mr. Harpy will tell you my terms, you will find them reasonable enough.

Har. Oh, I am fure we shall have no dispute about those.

Y. Lov. No, no.

[Going. Mrs. Mech. Oh, but Mr. Harpy, it may be proper to mention that the gentlewoman, the party, is upwards of fixty.

Y. Lov. With all my heart; it is the purse, not the perfon I want! Sixty! fhe is quite a girl; I wifh with all my foul fhe was ninety.

Mrs. Mech. Get you gone, you are a devil, I see that.

Y. Lov. Well, for half an hour, fweet Mrs. Mechlin, adieu.

[Exeunt Young Loveit and Harpy.

Mrs.

Mrs. Mech. Soh! I have provided for my dowager from Devonfhire-fquare, and now to cater for my commiffary. Here he comes.

Enter FUNGUS and BRIDOUN.

Fun. So in fix weeks-Oh, Mrs. Mechlin, any news from the lady?

Mrs. Mech. I expect her here every moment. She is confcious that in this ftep, fhe defcends from her dignity; but being defirous to screen you from the fury of her noble relations, fhe is determined to let them fee that the act and deed is intirely her own.

Fun. Very kind, very obliging indeed. But, Mrs. Mechlin, as the family is fo furious, I reckon we shall never be reconciled.

Mrs. Mech. I don't know that. When you have bought commiffions for her three younger brothers, difcharged the mortgage on the paternal eftate, and portioned off eight or nine of her fifters, it is not impoffible but my lord may be pre

vailed on to fuffer your name.

Fun. Do you think fo?

Mrs. Mech. But then a work of time, Mr. Fungus.

Fun. Ay, ay, I know very well things of that kind are not brought about in a hurry.

Mrs. Mech. But I muft prepare matters for the lady's reception.

Fun. By all means. The jewels are fent to her ladyfhip?

Mrs. Mech. To be fure.

Fun. And the ring for her ladyfhip, and her ladyfhip's licence?

Mrs. Mech. Ay, ay, and her ladyship's parfon too; all are prepared.

D

Fun.

Fun. Parfon! why won't her ladyfhip please to be married at Powl's?

Mrs. Mech. Lord, Mr. Fungus, do you think a lady of her rank and condition would bear to be feen in public at once with a perfon like you? Fun. That's true, I

Mrs. Mech. No, no; I have fent to Dr. Tickle-` text, and the bufinefs will be done in the parlour below.

Fun. As you and her ladyfhip pleases, good Mrs. Mechlin.

Mrs. Mech. You will get dreffed as foon as you

can.

Fun. I fhall only take a fhort leffon from Mr. Bridoun, and then wait her ladyfhip's pleasure. Mrs. Mechlin, may my brother be by?

Mrs. Mech. Ay, ay, provided his being fo is kept a fecret from her.

Fun. Never fear.

[Exit Mrs. Mechlin.}· Well, Mr. Bridoun, and you think I am mended a little.

Brid. A great deal.

Fun. And that in a month or fix weeks I may be able to prance upon a long-tailed horfe in Hyde-park, without any danger of falling?

Brid. Without doubt.

Fun. It will be vast pleasant, in the heat of the day, to canter along the King's-road, fide by fide with the ladies, in the thick of the duft; but that I must not hope for this fummer.

Brid. I don't know that, if you follow it clofe. Fun. Never fear, I fhan't be sparing ofBut come, come, let us get to our business John, have the carpenters brought home my new horfe?

Enter

Enter JOHN.

John. It is here, fir, upon the top of the stairs. Fun. Then fetch it in, in an inftant,-[Exit John.-What a deal of time and trouble there goes, Mr. Bridoun, to the making a gentleman. And do your gentlemen born now (for I reckon you have had of all forts) take as much pains as we do?

Brid. To be fure; but they begin at an earlier

age.

Fun. There is fomething in that; I did not know but they might be apter, more cuterer now in catching their larning.

Brid. Difpofitions do certainly differ.

Fun. Ay, ay, fomething in nater, I warrant, as they say the children of blackamoors will fwim as foon as they come into the world.[Enter Servants with a wooden horfe.]Oh, here he is, Ods me! it is a stately fine beast.

Brid. Here, my lads, place it here-very well, where's your switch, Mr. Fungus.?

Fun. I have it.

Brid. Now let me fee you vault nimbly into your feat. Zounds! you are got on the wrong fide, Mr. Fungus!

Fun. I am lo, indeed, but we'll foon rectify that. Now we are right: may I have leave to lay hold of the mane ?

Brid. If you can't mount him without.

Fun. I will try; but this fteed is so devilish tall -Mr. Bridoun, you don't think he'll throw me? Brid. Never fear.

Fun. Well, if he fhould he can't kick, that's one comfort, however,

Brid. Now mind your position.

D 2

Fun.