"But till the copy's fo exact," you say:
Alas! the fame thing happens every day!
How many a modih, well-dreffed fop you meet,
Exactly fuits his fhape in Monmouth-Street.
In Yorkshire warehoufes and Cranbourn-Alley,
'Tis wonderful how fhoes and feet will tally ¡
As honeft Crifpin understands his trade,
On the true human fcale his lafts are made;
The measure of each fex and age to hit,
And every fhoe, as if befpoke, will fit.

My warehouse, thus, for nature's walks, fupplies
Shoes for all ranks, and lafts of every fize.
Sit ftill and try 'em, Sirs; I long to pleafe you:
How well they fit! I hope you find 'em cafy!
If the fhoe pinches, fwear you cannot bear it;
But, if well made, I with you health to wear it!

Poftillions, Porters, Shoe-Blacks, &c.

Mrs. MINNIKIN,

Mrs. CLACK,

JENNY MINNIKIN,

ABBESS,
NUN.

Mifs Sherry.

Mijs Platt.

Mrs. Jewell.
Mrs. Love.

THE CAPUCHIN,

[In order to avoid fwelling the bulk, and encreafing the Price of thefe Pieces, fuch Paffages in the Capuchin as are exactly fimilar to thofe in The Trip to Calais, are not reprinted; but the Reader is referred to the Pages in which the Dialogue and Fable connect the two Dramas.]

ACTI.

[The first variation from The Trip to Calais is by the following infertion, after Tromfort's speech ending, "for he is ver fond of de fea," p. 11.]

Tromfort.

SOME littel time past, ve vas have anoder gentleman of de fame kind in dis town: He vas a grand autere; diable, a man of great deal of vit, beaucoup d'esprit.

Fenny. Ay!

Tromf. Oh, oui! he vas write de pretty paragraph in de Gazette, vat you call your newspaper? by gar, he lay about him like le diable! Poff, poff, poff! he make all de my lors, ay, and my ladies too, shake in dere two shoe.

F 2

Dick.

Dick. What brought him here?

Tromf. He vas come over here vid my lady Deborah Dripping.

Jenny. Is her ladyship here?

Tromf. No; fhe vas go to Italy to visit de Pope.

Dick. And leave the Doctor behind?

Tromf. You know he vas Proteftant Pretre: Not but he vas ver polite, and offered to turn Papist to vait on de lady.

Dick. That was very complaifant of the Doctor. Where is he 'now?

Tromf. He is gone governeur to fhew dis country to a chevalier Anglois, an English knight, I dink dey call, Sir Harry de Hamper.

[The Dialogue then proceeds without any variation to p. 21; where, instead of the entrance of Lapelle, Gingham, and La Jeunesse, the Act was continued, and concluded, as follows.]

Mrs. Min. Blefs me, what a rumbling is that!
Re-enter Codling.

Codl. I fancy, an old neighbour of your's, that has just drove into the yard.

Min. Who can it be?

Codl. Mafter Hamper, that kept the great teafhop at the corner of Cornhill; you remember him?

Min. What should ail me: many a tiff have we taken at Mother Red-Cap's, in our Sundaynights' walks up to Hampstead.

Mrs. Min. Ay, but, Matt, times are altered with him now: Since the death of his brother, he is become a knight banneret, and perhaps may chufe to forget his old friends.

Min. Ay, ay, like enough. Upon his coming to his means, he grew too proud to live in the city; fo fhut up fhop, and I ha'n't got fight of him fince. Son Codling, doft know what brought him here?

Clack. Sir Harry Hamper! is he here? I shall be happy to fee him; I had the honour to furnifh him with fame tom-bore waistcoats when he fet out on his tower.

Min. Tower! what a deuce could provoke him to leave home?

Clack. Wanted to fee the world, I fuppofe.
Min. See the world! what, juft as he is going

out on't?

Clack. And to qualify him for the honour of a young lady of quality's hand, that lives in our Square, to whom he paid his addreffes; but she infifts upon his polishing a little.

Min. A young lady! what, Harry Hamper? Zounds, why, he is ten years older than I am! on the wrong fide of feventy, I'll be upon oath.

Clack. Ay, that is as you reckon him; but he dates his birth from the day of his fucceeding to the family honours.

Mrs. Min. About five years ago.

Min. He is not far from the mark; once a man, and twice a child!

Codl. To my thinking, these mounfeers have disfigured him strangely; if it had not been for* Peter Packthread, his old fhopman, whom he keeps as his valet de fham, I should never have known him.

Min. I reckon he is as proud as Old Nick. Codl. I can't fay much as to that. Peter fays, that his master has not picked up much of their lingo, fo his speech is pretty much as it was; he talks

F 3

talks to every body, runs from one thing to t'other, and rattles away at his old rate, I can tell you.

Mrs. Min. But how does he manage to call for fuch things as he wants?

Codl. He picked up a clargyman, as he paffed thro' this town, and carried him with him, as his travelling tuterer. Oh, here he is.

Enter Sir Harry Hamper, Peter Packthread, Dr. Viper, and Two Poftillions.

Sir H. Come, come! come along, Doctor! Peter, give the poftillions thirty fouses a-piece. Peter. 'Tis put down, they are to have but five, in the book.

Sir H. No matter; it will let them know we are fomebody, Peter.

Peter. What fignifications that? ten to one, we shall never see them again.

Sir H. Do as you are bid! [Peter pays the Pofl. Peter. There! Pox take 'em, fee how they grin! ay, ay, I dare be fworn you ha'n't feen fuch a fum this many a day.

lor!

It Poft. Serviteur! bonne voyage, Monfieur my [Exeunt Poft. Sir H. There, there, Peter! my lord! I have purchased a title for ten-pence; that is dogcheap, or the devil's in't!

Peter. Nay, in that refpect, the folks here make but little difference between their dogs and your worship, I think; for every mangy cur I have met with, is either prince, or my lord, or marquis.

Clack. I am happy to fee your honour in France. Sir H. What, Mrs. Clack! and Mafter Min