Зображення сторінки

Jen. Not at all given tọ lying, but like other tradesfolks, in the way of her business.

Sim. Very well.

Jen. Very well! then pray, sir, what would you insinuate ?

Look you, Mr. Simon, don't go to cast reflections upon us ; don't think to blast the reputation of our

Sim. Hark ye, Jenny, are you serious ?
Fen. Serious! Äy, marry am I.
Sim. The devil you are !

Jen. Upon my word, Mr. Simon, you should not give your tongue such a licence ; let me tell you, these airs don't become you at all.

Sim. Heyday! why where the deuce have I got, sure I have mistaken the house; is not this Mrs. Mechlin's ?

Jen. That's pretty well known.

Sim. The commodious, convenient Mrs. Mechlin, at the sign of the Star, in the parish of St. Paul's, Covent-Garden ?

Jen. Bravo.
Šim. That commercial caterpillar ?
Fen. I know it.
Sim. That murderer of manufactures ?
Jen. Doubtless.
Sim. That walking warehouse?
Jen. Granted.

Sim. That carries about a greater cargo of contraband goods under her petticoats than a. Calais cutter?

Jen. Very well.
Sim. That engroffer and seducer of virgins ?
Jen. Keep it up, Master Simon.
Sim. That forestaller of Bagnios ?
fen. Incomparable fine.
A 3


your favour.

Sim. That canting, cozening, money-lending, match-making, pawnbroking- [Loud knocking.

Fen. Mighty well, fir: here comes my mistress, the shall thank you for the pretty pi&ture you have been pleased to draw.

Sim. Nay, but dear Jenny
Jen. She shall be told how highly she stands in
Sim. But my sweet girl [Knock again.
Jen. Let me go, Mr. Simon, don't you hear?

Sim. And can you have the heart to ruin mo at once !

Jen. Hands off.

Sim. A peace, a peace, my dear Mrs. Jane, and di&tate the articles, Enter Mrs. MECHLIN ( followed by a hackney coach

man, with several bundles) in a capuchin, a bonnet, and her clothes pinned up.

Mrs. Mech. So, husly, what must I stay all day in the streets? who have we here! the devil's in the wenches, I think-one of your fellows ! suppose. Oh, is it you! how fares it, Simon ?

Jen. Madam, you should not have waited a minute, but Mr. SimonSim. Hush, hush !


barbarpus jade Yen. Knowing your knock, and eager to open the door, flew up stairs, fell over the landingplace, and quite barr'd up the way.

Sim. Yes, and I am afraid I have put out my ankle. Thanks, Jenny ; you shall be no loser,

, Mrs. Mech. Poor Simon. -Oh, Lord have mercy upon me, what a round have I taken! -- Is the wench petrified; why don't you reach me a chair, don't you see I'm iired to death ?


you plut

Jen. Indeed, ma'am, you'll kill yourself.

Sim. Upon my word, ma'am Mechlin, you should take a little care of yourself; indeed you Jabour too hard.

Mrs. Mech. Ay, Simon, and for little or nothing: only vi@uals and cloaths, more cost than worlhip..Why does not the wench take the things from the fellow? Well, what's your fare ?

Coachm. Mistress, it's honestly worth half a


send him away.

Mrs. Mech. Give him a couple of shillings and

Coachm. I hope you'll tip me the tester to drink?

Mrs. Mech, Them there fellows are never contented ; drink! ftand farther off; why you smell already as strong as a beer-barrel.

Coachm. Mistress, that's because I have already been drinking

Mrs. Mech. And are not you ashamed, you fot, to be eternally guzzling? You had better buy you some cloaths.

Coachm. No, mistress, my honour won't let me do that.

Mrs. Mech. Your honour! and pray how does that hinder you?

Coachm. Why, when a good gentlewoman like you, cries, Here, coachman, here's something to drink.

Mrs. Mech. Well!

Coachm. Would it be honour in me to lay it out in any thing else? No, mistress, my conscience won't let me, because why, it's the will of the donor, you know.

Mrs. Mech. Did you ever hear such a blockhead ?


Coachni. Coachm. No, no, mistress; tho I am a poor man, I won't forfeit my honour; my cattle, tho'f I love 'em, poor beastesses, are not more dearer to me than that.

Mrs. Mech. Yes, you and your horses give prelty strong proofs of your love and your honour; for you have no cloaths on your back, and they have no flesh. Well, Jenny, give him the fix-pence, there, there, lay it out as you will.

Coachm. It will be to your health, mistress; it shall melt at the Mews, before I go home; I shall be careful to clear my conscience.

Mrs. Mecb. I don't doubt it.
Coachm. You need not. Mistress, your servant.

(Exit Coachman. Mrs. Mech. Has there been any body here, Jenny ?

Jen. The gentleman, ma'am, about the Gloucestershire living.

Mrs. Mech. He was, Oh oh! What I suppose his stomach's come down. Does he like the in. cumbránce? will he marry the party?

Jen. Why that article seems to go a little against him.

Mrs. Mech. Does it so ? then let him retire to his Cumberland curacy: that's a fine keen air, it will soon give him an appetite. He'll stick to his honour 100, till his caflock is wore to a rag.

Jen. Why, indeed, ma'am, it seems pretty rusty already.

Mrs. Mech. Devilish squeamish, I think; a good fat living, and a fine woman into the bargain ! You told him a friend of the lady's will take the child off her hands?

Jen. Yes, madam.
Mrs. Mech. So that the affair will be a secset to

all but himself. But he must quickly refolve, for next week his wife's month will be up.

Jen, He promised to call about four.

Mrs. Mech. But don't let him think we are at a loss for a husband; there is to my knowledge a merchant's clerk in the city, a comely young man, and comes of good friends, that will take her with but a small place in the custom-house.

Jen. He shall know it.

Mrs. Mech. Ay, and tell him, that the party's party has interest enough to obtain it whenever he will. And then the bridegroom may put the purchase-money too of that same presentation into his pocket.

Jen. Truly, ma'am, I should think this would prove the belt match for the lady.

Mrs. Mech. Who doubts it?-Here, Jenny, carry these things above stairs. Take care of the aigrette, leave the watch upon the table, and be sure you don't mislay the pearl necklace; the lady goes to Mrs. Cornelly's to-night ; and, if she has any luck, she will be sure to redeem it to-morrow.

[Exit Jenny. Sim. What a world of affairs ! it is a wonder, madam, how you are able to remember them all.

Mrs. Mech. Trifles, mere trifles, master Simon. - But I have a great affair in hand-Such an affair, if well managed, it will be the making of us all.

Sim. If I, ma'am, can be of the least use

Mrs. Mech. Of the highest! there is no doing without you. You know the great

Enler JENNY. Jen. I haye put the things where you ordered, ma'am.


« НазадПродовжити »