meaning of this? you all fit as filent and glumwhy, can't you speak out, with a pox? Poul. Why, 'Squire, as we are all your fixed friends, we have been canvaffing this matter amongst us. Flint. You have? Poul. Marriage, you know very well, is no trifling affair; too much caution and care can't be used. Flint. That I firmly believe, which has made me defer it fo long. Poul. Pray lend me your hand; how is the ffate of your health? do you find yourself hearty and strong? Flint. I think fo; that is, I-you ha'n't observed any bad symptoms of late? Poul. No; but you used to have pains flying about you. Flint. Formerly; but fince I have fixed my gout to a fit, they are gone: that, indeed, lays me up for four or five months in a year. Poul. A pretty long fpell: And, in fuch a cafe, now, do you think that marriage Flint. The moft beft receipt in the world: Why, that, man, was one of my motives: Wives, you know, are allowed to make very good nurfes. Poul. That, indeed Flint. Ay; and then they are always at hand; and, befides, they don't cost one a farthing. Poul. True, true. Why, you look very jolly, and fresh; does not he? All. Exceedingly. Poul. Yet he can't be lefs than let me fee! Wasn't you under old Syntax at Wells? Flint. He died the year I left school. Poul. Poul. That must be a good forty years fince. Poul. Then, 'Squire, you are hard upon fixty. Flint. Not far away, Mafter Poultice. Poul. And Mifs Linnet-fixteen: You are a bold man! Not but there are instances, where men have survived many years fuch difproportionate marriages as thefe. Flint, Survived! and why should they not? Poul. But then their ftamina must be prodigiously strong. Flint, Stamina! Poul. Let us fee, Button! there was Dr. Dotage, that married the Devonshire girl; he had a matter of Button. No, no; he dropped off in fix months. Poul. True, true; I had forgot. Flint. Lord have mercy! Button. Indeed, an old master of mine, Sir Harry O'Tuff, is alive, and walks about to this day. Flint. Hey! Poul. But you forget where Sir Harry was born, and how foon his lady eloped. Button. In the honey-moon; with Captain Pike, of the guards: I mind it full well. Poul. That, indeed, alters the cafe. Flint. Well, but, Billy, you are not serious in this? you don't think there is any danger of death? Button. As to the matter of death, the Doctor knows better than I, because why, that lies in his way: But I fhall never forget Colonel Crazy, one of the best customers that ever I had; had; I never think of him without dropping a tear. Flint. Why? what was the matter with him? Button. Married Lady Barbary Bonnie, as it might be about midnight on Monday Flint. Well! Button. But never more faw the fweet face of the fun. Flint. What did he die? Button. Within an hour after throwing the stocking. Flint. Good Lord! that was dreadful indeed! Of what age might he be? Button. About your time of life. Flint. That is vaftly alarming. Lord bless me, Bill, I am all of a tremble! Button. Ay, truly, it behoves your honour to confider what you are about. Flint. True. Button. Then, what a world of money must go! running forwards and backwards to town, and jaunting to fee all the fine fights in the place Flint. I fha'n't take her to many of them: perhaps I may shew her the Parliament-house, the plays, and Boodles, and Bedlam, and my Lord-Mayor, and the lions. Button. And then the vast heap of fine cloaths you must make Flint. What occafion for that? Button. As you ar'n't known, there is no doing without; because why, every body paffes there for what they appears. Flint. Right, Billy; but I believe I have found out a way to do that pretty cheap. Button. Which way may be that? Flint. You have feen the minifter that's come down to tack us together Button. I have: Is he a fine man in the pulpit? Flint. He don't care much to meddle with that; but he is a prodigious patriot, and a great politician to boot. Button. Indeed? Flint. And he has left behind him, at Paris, a choice collection of curious rich cloaths, which he has promised to fell me a pennorth. Poul. Pho! what Billy talks of are trifles to the evils you are to expect: To have a young girl break in upon all your old ways; your afternoon's nap interrupted, and perhaps not fuffered to take your pipe of a night Flint. No? Poul. All your former friends forbidden your house Flint. The fewer comes in, the lefs will go out: I fha'n't be very sorry for that. Poul. To make room for her own numerous clan Flint. Not a foul of them fhall enter the doors. Poul. A brood of babes at your board, whose fathers fhe herself won't find it easy to name Flint. To prevent that, I'll lock her up in a room. Poul. The King's-Bench will break open the door. Flint. Then I'll turn her out of the house. Poul. Then her debts will throw you into a gaol. Flint, Who told you fo? Poul. A dozen of proctors. Fant Flint. Then I will hang myself out of the way. Poul. So fhe will become poffeffed of her jointure, and her creditors foreclofe your eftate. Flint. What a miferable poor toad is a huf band, whofe misfortunes not even death can relieve! Button. Think of that, 'Squire, before it be too late. Flint. Well, but, friends, neighbours, what the deuce can I do? Are you all of a mind? De far. All, all; dere is no queftion at all. What, a garçon of your antient famille, to take up with a pauvre petite bourgoife a? Flint. Does that never happen in France? De Jar. Never, but when Monfieur de Baron is very great beggar, and de bourgoife has damn'd deal de guinea. Poul. That is none of our cafe. Flint. No, no.-Mynheer, do your people never make up fuch matches? Sour-Cr. Never, never: What! a German dishonour his stock! Why, Mefter Flint, should Mistress Linnet bring you de children for de ten generations to come, they could not be chofe de Canons de Stratfbourg. Flint. No? Poul. So, 'Squire, take it which way you will, what dreadful danger you run! Flint. I do. Poul. Lofs of friends Button. Pipe and afternoon's nap Sour-Cr. Your famille gone to de dogs De far. Your peace of mind to de devil-- Button. Your wealth Poul |