Enter Lady Catharine Coldfream., :

L. Cath. Come, come, Maifter Flint, I'll fet your hert at rest in the inftant you ken weel enow, laffes are apt to be modeft and shy; then take her answer fra me: Prepare the minifter, and aw the rest of the tackle, and you will find us ready to gang to the kirk.

Flint. Mifs, may I rely on what her ladyship fays?

L. Cath. Gad's mercy! I think the mon is bewitched! he wonna take a woman of quality's word for fik a trifling thing as a wife.

Flint. Your ladyship will impute it all to my fears. Then I will ftraight fet about getting the

needful.

L. Cath. Gang your gait as faft as you list.

Flint. Lord blefs us! I had like to have forgot-I have, please your ladyfhip, put up here in a purse a few prefents, that if Mifs would but deign to accept

L. Cath. Ah! that's aw wright; quite in the order of things: As maters now ftand, there is no harm in her accepting of prefents fra you, Maister Flint; you may produce.

Flint. Here is a Porto-Bello pocket-piece of Admiral Varnon, with his image a one fide, and fix men of war only, all in full fail, on the other

L. Cath. That's a curious medallion !

Flint. And here is a half-crown of Queen Anne's, as fresh as when it came out from the Mint 1 have refufed two and eight-pence for it a hundred times.

L. Cath. Yes, yes; it is in very fine preferva

Flint. In this here paper there are two mourning-rings; that, which my aunt Bother'em left me, might serve very well, I should think, for the approaching happy occafion.

L. Cath. How! a mourning

Flint. Because why, the motto's fo pat;
True, till death

Shall ftop my breath.

L. Cath. Ay, ay, that contains mickle morality, Mefs.

Flint. And here is, fourthly, a filver coral and bells, with only a bit broke off the coral when I was cutting my grinders: This was given me by my godfather Slingfby; and I hope will be in ufe again before the year comes about.

L. Cath. Na doubt, na doubt! Leave that matter to us; I warrant we impede the Flint family from fawing into oblivion.

Flint. I hope fo: I fhould be glad to have a fon of my own, if fo be, but to leave him my fortune; because why, at prefent there is no mortal that I care a farthing about.

L. Cath. Quite a philofopher. Then dispatch, Maifter Flint, difpatch! for you ken, at your time of life, you hanna a moment to lofe.

Flint. True, true, Your ladyfhip's entirely devoted-Mifs, I am your most affectionate flave! [Exit. L. Cath. A faunzy lad, this Maifter Flint: You fee, Mefs, he has a meaning in aw he does. Mifs Lin. Might I be permitted to alter your ladyship's words, I fhould rather fay, meanness.

L. Cath. It is na mickle mater what the mon is at prefent; wi a little management, you may mould him into any form that you` list.

Mifs Lin. I am afraid he is not made of such pliant materials: But, however, I have too far advanced to retire; the die is caft! I have no chance now, unlefs my Corydon fhould happen to alter his mind.

L. Cath. Na, Mefs: there is na danger in that: You may ken the treaty is concluded under my mediation; an he fhould dare to draw back, Lady Catharine Coldftream would find means to punish his perfidy.-Come away, Mefs! [Exeunt.

ACT III. SCENE I.

The Bear Inn.

Sir Chriftopher Cripple, Sour-Grout, de Farfey, Major Rackett, and Poultice, discovered fitting at a table.

Sir Chriftopher Cripple.

WE must take care that Flint does not furprife us; for the fcoundrel is very fufpi

cious.

Rack. There is no danger of that; I lodged him fafely at Linnet's: Button ftands centry at the end of the street; fo that we fhall be inftantly apprised of every motion he makes.

Poul. Well managed, my Major!

Sir Chr. Yes, yes; the cunning young dog knows very well what he is about.

Sour-Cr. Upon my vord, Major Rackett has very fine difpofition to make a figure at de head of de army; five or fix German campaigns will —Ah,

D 2

-Ah, dat is de best school in de vorld for make a de var.

Sir Chr. Five or fix German campaigns!

Sour-Cr. Ay, Chevalier; vat you fay to dat? Sir Chr. O Mynheer! nothing at all: A German war, for aught I know, may be a very good fchool; but it is a damned expenfive edu. cation for us.

De Far. C'est vrai, Chevalier; dat is all true; ce pay la, dat place is de grave for de Frenchman and de fine English Guinea,

Sir Chr. True, Monfieur; but our guineas are rather worfe off than your men, for they ftand no chance of rifing again.

De far. Ha, ha, ha! dat is very vell! le Chevalier have beaucoup d'efprit, great deal of wit, ma foi.

Rack. I think the Knight is in luck. But don't let us lofe fight of our fubject! You, Gentlemen, are all prepared, perfect in the feveral you are to play?

All. Ay, ay.

Rack. You, Mynheer Sour-Crout?

parts

Sour-Cr. I understand: I will pique his honour; de pride of his famille.

Rack. Right. Poultice

Poul. I will alarm him on the fide of his health.

Sir Chr. Next to his money, the thing in the world he moft minds.

Rack. You, de Jarfey, and Button, will employ all your eloquence on the prudential fide of the-Oh, dear Jarfey! here is a draft for the pipe of Port that I promised.

De Jar. Dat is right.

Rack. The only receipt to get bawds, bo

roughs,

roughs, or Frenchmen. [Afide.]-Oh, here Bil

ly comes.

Enter Button.

Well, Billy! what news?

Button. I am vaft afraid all matters are con

cluded at laft.

Rack. Ay! prithee why fo?

you

Button. Because why, in ten minutes after went, out bolted the Squire, and hurry-fcurried away to layer Lattitat's, who, you know, arrests his tenants, and does all his concarns.

Rack. True: Well

Button. I fuppofe, to gi' hita orders about drawing up the writings.

Sir Chr. Not unlikely. But you think Flint will come to the club?

Button. There is no manner of doubt of it; because why, he holloo'd to me from over the way, "What, Billy, I fuppofe you are bound "to the Bear: Well, boy, I fhall be hard at your heels ;" and he feemed in prodigious vaft fpirits.

Rack. I am miftaken if we don't lower them a little. Well, Gentlemen, the time of action draws near. Knight, we muft decamp.

Sir Chr. When you will.

Rack. I think, Sir Chriftopher, you lodge in the fame houfe with the Linnets ?

Sir Chr. Juft over their heads.

Rack. Then thither we'll go. Ten to one, if our plot operates as I expect, the hero will return to their house.

Sir Chr. Moft likely.

Rack. We are come to a crifis, and the cataf

trophe of our piece can't be very far off.