Dolly. I hope my aunt does not fufpect that I can ever be wanting.

Mrs. Mech. No, my dear, not in the leaft: but it is beft, Dolly, in order to prevent all retrofpection, that we fettle accounts before you change your condition.

Dolly. But, ma'am, may not I fee the contents? Mrs. Mech. The contents, love, of what use will that be to you? Sign and feal, that's enough. Dolly. But, aunt, I choose to see what I fign. Mrs. Mech. To fee, what then you fufpect me? Dolly. No, ma'am; but a little caution

Mrs. Mech. Caution! Here's an impudent baggage! how dare you difpute my commands; have not I made you, raised you from nothing, and won't a word from my mouth reduce you again? Dolly. Madam, I

Mrs. Mech. Anfwer me, huffy, was not you a beggar's brat at my door: did not I, out of compaffion, take you into my house, call you my niece, and give you fuitable breeding?

Dolly. True, madam.

Mrs. Mech. And what return did you make me? You was fcarce got into your teens, you forward flut, but you brought me a child almost as big as yourfelf; and a delightful father you chofe for it! Doctor Catgut, the meagre mufician; that fick monkey-face maker of crotchets; that eternal trotter after all the little draggle-tailed girls of the town. Oh, you low flut, had it been by a gentleman, it would not have vexed me; but a fiddler ! Dolly. For heaven's fake.

Mrs. Mech. After that you eloped, commenced ftroller, and in a couple of years, returned to town in your original trim, with scarce a rag to your back.

Dolly.

Dolly. Pray, maʼam

Mrs. Mech. Did not I, notwithstanding, receive you again? have not I tortured my brains for your good? found you a husband as rich as a Jew, juft brought all my matters to bear, and now you refufe to fign a paltry paper?

Dolly. Pray, madam, give it me, I will fign, execute, do all that you bid me.

Mrs. Mech. You will; yes, fo you had beft. And what's become of the child, have you done as I ordered?

་་་༤

Dolly. The doctor was not at home; but the nurse left the child in the kitchen.

Mrs. Mech. You heard nothing from him?
Dolly. Not a word.

Mrs. Mech. Then he is meditating fome mifchief, I warrant. However, let our good stars fecure us to-day, and a fig for what may happen to-morrow. It is a little unlucky tho', that Mr. Fungus has chofen the doctor for his master of mufic? but as yet he has not been here, and, if poffible, we muft prevent him.

Enter JENNY, haftily.

Jen. Mr. Fungus, the tallow chandler, ma'am, is croffing the way, fhall I fay you are at home? Mrs. Mech. His brother has fervants enough, let fome of them anfwer. Hide, Dolly.-[Exeunt Dolly and Jenny.]-[One knock at the door.]Ay, that's the true tap of the trader; this old brother of ours tho' is fmoaky and fhrewd, and tho’ an odd, a fenfible fellow; we muft guard againft him if he gets but an inkling, but the flighteft fufpicion, our project is marr'd.—[A noise without.]

What the deuce is the matter! As I live, a fquabble between him and La Fleur, the French footman

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footman we hired this morning. This may make mirth, I'll liften a little.

[Retires.

Enter Mr. ISAAC FUNGUS, driving in LA FLEUR. I. Fun. What, is there no body in the house that can give me an anfwer; where's my brother, you rafcal?

La Fleur. Je n'entend pas.

I. Fun. Pas, what the devil is that; anfwer yes or no, is my brother at home? don't fhrug up your fhoulders at me, you--Oh, here comes a rational being.

Enter Mrs. MECHLIN.

Madam Mechlin, how fares it ? this here lanthornjaw'd rafcal won't give me an anfwer, and indeed would fcarce let me into the house.

La Fleur. C'eft gros Bourgeois a fait une tapage de diable,

Mrs. Mech. Fy donc, c'eft le frere de monfieur.
La Fleur. Le frere! Mon Dieu !

I. Fun. What is all this? what the devil linguo is the fellow a-talking?

Mrs. Mech. This is a footman from France that your brother has taken.

I. Fun. From France! and is that the beft of his breeding? I thought we had taught them better manners abroad, than to come here and infult us at home. People make fuch a rout about fmuggling their frenchified goods, their men do us more mifchief. If we could but hinder the importing of them

Mrs. Mech. Ay, you are a true Briton, I fee that, Mr. Ifaac.

I. Fun. I warrant me: is brother Zachary at home?

Mrs.

Mrs. Mech. Above ftairs, fir.

1. Fun. Any company with him?

Mrs. Mech. Not any to hinder your,vifit, La Fleur, ouvrez la porte.

I. Fun. Get along you-Mrs. Mechlin, your fervant. I can't think what the devil makes your quality fo fond of the monfieurs; for my part I don't feeMarch and be hanged to you-you footy-faced

[Exeunt I. Fungus and La Fleur. Mrs Mech. Come Dolly, you now may appear.

Enter JENNY,

Jen. Mr. Paduafoy, ma'am, the Spitalfields weaver; he has been waiting this hour, and fays he has some people at home

Mrs. Mech. Let him enter; in a couple of minutes I'll follow you, Dolly. [Exit Jenny.

Enter PADUASOY.

Mrs. Mech. Mr. Paduafoy, you may load yourfelf home with thofe filks, they won't do for my market.

Pad. Why, what's the matter, madam?

Mrs. Mech. Matter! you are a pretty fellow indeed; you a tradefman! but it's lucky I know you, things might have been worfe; let us fettle accounts, Mr. Paduafoy; you'll fee no more of

my money.

Pad. I fhall be forry for that, Mrs. Mechlin. Mrs. Mech. Sorry! anfwer me one question; am not I the best customer that ever you had? Pad. I confefs it.

Mrs. Mech. Have not I mortgaged my precious foul, by fwearing to my quality-customers that

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the

the ftuff from your looms was the produce of Lyons?

Pad. Granted.

Mrs. Mech. And unless that had been believed, could you have fold them a yard, nay a nail? Pad. I believe not.

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Mrs. Mech. Very well. Did not, fir, I procure you more money for your curfed goods, when fold as the manufacture of France, than as mere Engifh they could have ever produced you?

Pad. I never denied it.

Mrs. Mech. Then,are not you a pretty fellow, to blow up and ruin my reputation at once? Pad. Me, madam!

Mrs. Mech. Yes, you.

Pad. As how?

Mrs. Mech. Did not you tell me thefe pieces of filk were entire, and the only ones you had made of that pattern?

Pad. I did.

Mrs. Mech. Now mind. Laft Monday I left them as juft landed, upon a pretence to fecure them from seizure, at the old countefs of Furbelow's, by whofe means, I was fure, at my own price, to get rid of them both; and who fhould come in last night at the ball at the ManfionHouse, where my lady unluckily happened to be, with a full fuit of the blue pattern upon her back, but Mrs. Deputy Dowlafs, dizened out like a duchefs.

Pad. Mrs. Deputy Dowlafs! Is it poffible?

Mrs. Mech. There is no denying the fact: but that was not all; if indeed Mrs. Deputy had behaved like a gentlewoman, and fwore they had been fent her from Paris, why there the thing would have died; but fee what it is to have to

do